


First Anniversaries

by towanda



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Anniversaries, F/F, Fucking Harge, angst unraveling into joy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towanda/pseuds/towanda
Summary: Vignettes of our heroines' first anniversaries.All within my headcanon universe, so read up, lovelies, if you haven't already. :-)





	1. The Presentation

Saturday, December 12, 1953

Carol wakes up, stretching languidly. It’s a Saturday, her favorite day when they have nowhere to be and can lounge in bed as long as they like.  Still not opening her eyes, she feels Therese next to her, though the weight on her side of the bed is unusually placed.  And, she realizes, there’s an odd sensation on her chest, the lightest of weights just on top of the red satin sheet covering her naked body.  Confused, she blinks her eyes open to see Therese sitting cross-legged beside her, looking down at her with the quirkiest of grins twitching at her lips and eyes.

“Finally, sleepyhead.”  Therese bends over and kisses Carol awake, laying a hand on her chest to balance her.  “I swear sometimes you’d sleep all day if I didn’t wake you up.”

Carol grins and raises an eyebrow. “But you waking me up is my favorite thing, darling.”  She puts her hand over Therese’s; the extra heft defines more clearly the shape on her chest: long, slender, with corners.  “Whatever are you up to already?”  She reaches for whatever it is, but Therese slides it out from under her hand before she can grasp it: a flat box tied with a red ribbon.

“What’s this?” Carol scoots herself up on her elbows, amused as Therese’s eyes can’t hide her glee. 

“This” – Therese’s face breaks into a huge dimpled smile and Carol sits all the way up, beyond curious now – “is for you.” And she extends the box to Carol with a flourish.  “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy” – Carol takes the box and pulls the ribbon off, impatient – “What” – she lifts the lid and folds back the pale tissue paper – “Oh Therese, dearest” – and she pulls out a pair of long leather gloves, deep red. She runs the leather under her fingers, so supple she almost groans.  She can’t wait to put them on, and as she fits the last of the fingers on her right hand, she looks up into Therese’s face marveling at her, eyes wide, cheeks flushed.  _I see_ , Carol thinks to herself, and stretches her arms out wide, sensuously waving her fingers inside the leather, and she smirks as Therese’s flush reaches her heaving chest.

“Darling, they’re gorgeous, thank you,” Carol says, running her hands up Therese’s arms and down over her back. 

“Oh god,” Therese moans, rolling back her head.  “They” – she takes a shaky breath – “they match your red coat.”

“Why so they do, I will have to wear them together later,” she responds, now smoothing her hands over Therese’s thighs, _assuming we ever leave this bed today_ , she thinks with a very contented sigh.

Therese tips over onto her back and pulls for Carol.  “Happy anniversary, Carol” – she kisses her, breathless.  “Just don’t go leaving them anywhere,” she adds with a grin and a nip to Carol’s lower lip.

The realization snaps instantly into Carol’s mind:  _Gloves. The day I left my – the day we met_.  A warmth melts within her, winding into every nook and curve of her being.  “Happy anniversary, dearest,” she murmurs, shifting to straddle Therese so she can run her gloved hands slowly over her chest, making the younger woman arch under her touch. _So this is how this is going to be._   As she lowers to take a breast in her mouth, she smirks to herself.  _Oh, this is going to be fun_.


	2. This Is It

Friday, December 18, 1953  
  


Carol comes home, arms full of shopping bags, humming “Orange Colored Sky,” a favorite Nat King Cole tune she’d heard on the radio in the car. 

_I was hummin' a tune_

_Drinkin' in sunshine_

_When out of that orange colored view-_

  
She juggles the bags to unlock the door, trying not to drop everything -

_  
Flash, Bam, Alakazam -_

  
\- and she kicks the door closed behind her with her foot.

 

_I got a look at you._

 

Carol smiles to herself, and steps into the kitchen to find Therese at the stove, stirring something in a pot.  She smiles, surprised; she had thought Therese would not be home yet.

 “Well hello there, dearest, what are you doing?” Carol inquires as she sets her bags on the kitchen table.

“Cooking, obviously, silly,” Therese grins over her shoulder.  “Come kiss me.”    

The air smells of onion and garlic, and – it couldn’t be, could it? Carol draws close and looks over Therese’s shoulder into the cookpot.    She holds her breath and bites her lip for a split second, and then bursts into laughter. 

“You’re laughing at my cooking? Nice!” Therese smirks.

Carol pulls her away from the stove, arms around her, eyes bright with joy. “No no, not at your cooking, not at all.” She kisses her long, hard, tongue slipping between teeth. Therese, slotted wooden spoon in hand, does not exactly resist. 

Finally Therese pulls back slightly, panting.  “Carol, the creamed spinach is going to burn if you keep this up.” 

But Carol does not let go. “Let it,” she says, “I have more in my bags.”

“More?” Therese is confused.

“More, darling.”  Carol pulls Therese closer again and nibbles at her ear, letting her work it out.  She feels the laugh bubbling up from inside Therese’s body and squeezes her in her arms as the laughter bursts out of her.

“You too?”

“Yes indeed, my love, me too.”  Carol runs her teeth along the tendon of Therese’s neck. “Happy anniversary,” she murmurs along her jawbone.

The wooden spoon clatters to the surface of the stove. Therese makes the quickest of turns to shut off the flame before pushing Carol backwards towards the bedroom, hands on her chest. 

_'Cause the ceiling fell in_

_And the bottom fell out_

_I went in to a spin_

_And i started to shout_

_"I've been hit, this is it, this is it."_

  
They eventually do finish the cooking and happily eat the creamed spinach and poached eggs.

 

At midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nat King Cole:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-6QknAOsVo
> 
> Natalie Cole:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9W2hOr-CB4


	3. Part Of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, life.

Saturday, December 19th, 1953

Carol takes a long, deep drag off her cigarette, and coughs. _I haven’t smoked in months, no wonder_ , she thinks, pulling her coat tighter around herself.  _Not since that day I dumped them in the trash.  Well._   She gazes out over the city, her thighs bumping the rooftop wall as she exhales into the bitter wind. _It’s colder tonight than it was before, that night. Still a few nights away, that anniversary. But here I am, up here, heartbroken again_.  She takes another drag, crushes out the butt on the concrete wall, and flicks it over the edge with irritation.  _Goddammit_.

She sighs, shivers.  _I want another.  Thank God Abby would only give me two_.  She looks up into the clear night sky.  _Isn’t the moon supposed to be full tonight? I wonder where it is.  It would be just my luck it stopped shining, on top of everything else_.  She kicks at the wall absent-mindedly.  _What a mess. What a goddam mess.  What is Therese going to think? What if she’s too disappointed, what if she really realizes how hard this is going to be, and decides she doesn’t want this anymore?_

Carol lights the second cigarette with a shaky hand, inhales deeply, coughs again.  “Fuck,” she mutters.

“Carol?” A hand comes to rest lightly at Carol’s elbow.

Lost in her thoughts, Carol had not heard anyone come onto the rooftop.  She turns but cannot quite look Therese in the eye.

“What are you doing up here? Are you…you’re smoking?” Therese asks, puzzled and concerned.

Carol takes a drag and then waves the cigarette in the air.  She exhales. “Long story.”  _Please don’t judge me_ , she adds in her mind.

Therese makes the slightest of shifts backwards, trying to catch Carol’s eye but Carol looks down to crush out the cigarette.  She wants to toss this one over the edge, too, but somehow, she thinks, Therese wouldn’t like that, so she leaves it on the wall for now.  She shoves her hands in her pockets, still staring down.

Therese sighs, short.  “Are you going to tell me? Carol?  What happened, what’s wrong?”

Carol can’t tell if Therese is frustrated with her nor not. Just before she forms the words “I’m fine,” she gives her head a shake.  _Oh God, I’m about to do it again. Shut her out. Don’t. Don’t_. She makes herself bring her gaze up to meet Therese’s. She swallows hard, trying to find the right words, trying to keep her eyes open to Therese, who is now watching her face intensely.

“Carol,” Therese says quietly, with just a touch to the other woman’s arm, “you can tell me. I can see you’re hurting. Whatever it is, you don’t have to deal with it on your own.”  She steps away, and sits on the center block.

Carol sees the corners of Therese’s mouth tighten - _so she is frustrated_ \- but her eyes stay soft.  _She’s trying_ , Carol thinks.  Trying to stay with her in this rage that is casting shadows everywhere.  The  younger woman’s effort at gentleness helps Carol feel like she can breathe again, and she feels her shoulder relax slightly.

“I’m sorry, Therese, it’s just…” She looks away, clenches her fists in her pockets. _I want to turn away I want to run what if what if…dammit, dammit Carol just speak_.  She takes a breath, looks back at Therese.

“It’s Harge.”  Her voice is shaky, but she got it out. 

Therese nods. “I thought so.”

“You did?”

“He’s the only thing I’ve ever seen get you this way, so yes.  Whatever it is, Carol, we’ll face it together.”

Carol smiles softly as the spinning thoughts inside her head start to calm.  She traces a line in the rooftop gravel with a toe, embarrassed.  “You know me well, darling.”

“I do.  Come sit here and tell me.” Therese pats the concrete next to her.

Carol sits, and reaches for Therese’s hand.  “Well, it’s his fucking mother, to be honest. Again with sudden the plans to wisk Rindy off for Christmas.” She swallows. “Just like last year.  He called the shop this afternoon and told me.”

“Christmas? But _we’re_ having her for Christmas, overnight even. Isn’t that what he agreed with the lawyers?”

“Well.” Carol really wants a cigarette again. Badly. _Did I actually finish the last one_?  “But at this point, how could I even fight it? It’s just days away.  And Fred says…” She pauses, shifts restlessly.

“What does Fred say, Carol?”

“He says…that Harge says… if I don’t want my… _proclivities_ drug out into the open again, I’ll leave it be.”

“What?  Carol, that’s…”

“I know, I know.”  She sniffs, tears coming to her eyes now.  “I thought he was going to leave it alone, but…goddam his mother, she never liked me, she will punish me forever for this.”

“Oh Carol.  This is…oh he’s awful.” Therese’s voice rises. “And his mother.  I’m so angry for you!”  She pulls Carol closer to her.  “Do we not get to see her at all?”

Carol notes the “we” and holds it tenderly in her chest.  _She’s in this too, she really is_.  “Well, that’s the other thing.  Harge said – and I’m sure he thought it was some kind of ridiculous peace offering – he can bring her by on New Year’s Eve for a few hours while he’s at a work party.  A few hours, as if that can make up for not having her wake up here on Christmas morning.”

“New Year’s…but” – Therese bites at her lip, confused – “we were going to” –

“Vermont, yes, I know.  I’m so sorry, darling, I know you must be disappointed, but” – Carol is ready to defend herself.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Carol, of course we’re staying,” Therese is insistent.  “Of course we’re seeing Rindy.    How could that be a disappointment?  Vermont isn’t going anywhere, but the chance to be with Rindy, though?  We can’t miss that.”

Carol sniffs again, and wipes her eyes with the back of her free hand.  “You sure?”

Therese reaches out and turns Carol’s face to her with a gentle finger. “Absolutely. And we’ll pack as much celebration of Christmas and New Year’s into the time we have.” 

“Oh darling, I swear, you are the best.  I was…” Carol looks away, down at her feet.  “I admit I was scared to tell you. That…maybe these kinds of…complications were not what you want, that maybe you’d…”

“Carol.” Therese turns her face again to look into her eyes.  “This is part of it. Part of you. Part of _us_.  I’m not going anywhere.  Ok?”

Carol gazes into her beloved’s eyes and sees the honesty there.  She nods slowly and leans her forehead against Therese’s.  “Ok.”

They stay that way for a long moment, breathing. 

“Darling,” Carol finally says.  “I’m freezing and this cold concrete is not helping. Let’s go in?”

They both make to stand up, and hug when they are finally on their feet.  Carol pulls away and takes Therese’s hand.

“Fucking Harge.”

Therese giggles.  “And his fucking mother.”

And their laughter peals out over the rooftops.


	4. Feels Like Christmas

Sunday, December 20th, 1953

Therese is lounging on the sofa flipping idly through Carol’s latest _Harper’s Bazaar_.  She stretches her toes, yawns, pulls her robe a little closer around her, wonders when Carol is coming back. She’s stepped out to buy a new bottle of Bushmills ( _can you do that on a Sunday_? Therese wonders) and fresh bread for supper.  She’s only been gone 20 minutes but Therese misses her like hell anyway.  She laughs at herself, still so smitten a year into it.  _I hope it’s always like this, that I miss her even when she’s just gone to the corner store_.

She lets the magazine drop to her chest.  _A year. A lifetime.  Still not always easy but look_ , Therese thinks with a soft smile, _even last night, Carol managed to get over that impulse to shut people out, including me.  That was something to see_.

Therese stretches again, remembering how they had come back downstairs last night, had hot chocolate with whiskey to warm up again, and snuggled on the couch, not saying much as they listened to the strange blend of Christmas carols and pop songs floating through the walls.  Usually, Therese would burrow up against Carol’s chest when they would snuggle, but this time, Therese held Carol close, knowing the ache would take a while to subside, and she entwined their hands together. They had fallen asleep that way, and stumbled groggily to the bed sometime after midnight.

Therese has stayed in her pajamas, but she doesn’t care.  There’s something about the day that feels like Christmas, after what Carol had told her over their coffee and eggs.

 

> _“Darling, I do have to tell you.  I did see Abby yesterday, after Harge called.”  Carol shifted in the chair, nervous but not looking away._
> 
> _Therese glanced carefully over the top of her coffee cup.  “You did?”  Therese couldn’t help but wonder if Carol had already worked out a plan with Abby, but tried not to show it. “I mean…”_
> 
> _“I did, I stopped in on my way home and bummed two cigarettes off her. I was dying.  I swear, only Harge…”  She took a sip of coffee.  “But I didn’t tell her anything.”_
> 
> _Therese swallowed her forkful of egg in an astounded rush. “What? What do you mean?”_
> 
> _“Well, I knew it wouldn’t be right, you should be the first to know.  So I just begged her for a pack of cigarettes.”  She laughed.  “Now, Abby just looked at me and said, ‘I’m only giving you two, and what has that bastard done this time?’”_
> 
> _Therese grinned.  “Abby knows you well, she’s not stupid.”_
> 
> _Carol grinned back, and there was relief in her eyes.  “Indeed.  I told her I would talk to her after I had a chance to talk to you.”_
> 
> _Therese knew her eyes had gone wide at that. She felt the momentous nature of Carol’s statement deep in her bones.  “And how did she take that?”was all she could manage to say._
> 
> _“Oh, she was fine!  She just smiled one of those all-knowing-grins of hers then sent me home.  She did say though, that I should find a new lawyer.  What do you think? Do you think we should?”_

Lying on the couch, Therese feels the tingle of happiness everywhere in her body, remembering their conversation, the obvious sign that Therese was central to Carol’s life, their decision together to find a new lawyer and to ask for Abby’s help in doing it.  Therese had gone to shower after a long deep kiss with Carol, leaning over her shoulder where the older woman still sat at the kitchen table.

Now she feels both blissful and longing, and gets up and begins wandering around the room. She adjusts some ornaments on their Christmas tree.  _When is she coming back? How long does it take to get bread and whiskey, anyway?_  She shakes her head at herself, and stops at the bookshelf to straighten their red-lacquered box of letters which seems slightly askew in its special spot.   _A year ago I felt like this, dying to see her again, and it’s only worse now._

The phone in the hall rings, and broken out of her reverie Therese turns with a sigh to go answer it.  _Abby, probably, with an offer for supper plans with her precious redhead_. Therese smirks lightly to herself and picks up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hello, darling, were you napping? Did I wake you?”

There’s a smiling lilt in Carol’s voice but Therese asks anyway:  “Carol, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, dearest, just fine.”  There’s a pause as Carol clears her throat.  “Ah, I was just wondering, if you…might be able to get off work early tomorrow…say two thirty or three?”

Her shy nerves are endearing and Therese warms, cradling the receiver closer.   “Well yes, yes I believe I can do that. Um” –

“Wonderful.  Where shall I pick you up, darling, the main entrance?”

 _Pick me up?_ Therese smirks and wonders what Carol is up to.  “Um, yes, yes that will be fine. Um” –

“And darling, ah” –

“Yes, Carol?”

“Would you like to come to my place? I know it’s a weeknight and we don’t usually but…” she trails off.

Therese is grinning now.  “Yes, Carol, yes, yes I would. Now, are you coming home any time soon?” she responds with a giggle.

“Dearest, I’ll be up in 3 minutes.”

Therese laughs as she hangs up the phone, and is waiting at the top step when Carol reaches the landing 3 minutes later, trying to appear calm and collected and failing utterly.   

“You look like the cat who ate the canary.  You went out just to call me, didn’t you?”  Therese closes the door behind them, turns the deadbolt, and then presses Carol up against the wall with her body, dimples deep with amusement.  She is glad to see Carol playful after the previous day’s heartache.

Carol looks at her with a smirk. “Well I did get the whiskey, didn’t I?” and she holds up a paper bag by the bottle’s neck, the bag twisted at the top.

Therese just shakes her head, rolls her hips against the taller woman. “That wasn’t really my question, but clearly you are too pleased with yourself for words.” She gives Carol a nip on the chin, then heads for the kitchen for glasses.  “I don’t know why you couldn’t just ask me here, silly woman.”

Carol follows, sets the bottle on the table with some emphasis, and crosses her arms, trying to look serious but the look of utter glee in her eyes while trying to hold it back from the rest of her face gives her away. “Because, darling, I had to call you to arrange where to pick you up a year ago, remember?” 

Therese turns from the cabinet, glasses in her hands, bites her lip.  “Oh my goodness,” she whispers. “Carol, you remember that?”

Carol says nothing but takes the glasses from her hands, sets them on the table, pulls the bottle from the bag, screws the top off, pours them both a generous few fingers of Bushmills into the glasses, and finally hands Therese a glass.

“Happy anniversary, darling,” Carol says, voice low, clinking Therese’s glass with her own.  “Now then, I have just two questions for you.”  She drinks half the glass of whiskey in one swallow while Therese just nods. 

“First. What would you like to eat, tomorrow? I should have asked you that on the phone, but well” -

Therese’s eyes are wide now, and she knows she’s flushed though she has yet to drink her whiskey.  “Anything,” she responds, rather breathless, “anything.”

“I see.” Carol drinks off the rest of her whiskey, her flirtatious smirk brazen.  “And second.” She leans forward slightly, licks her lips, drops her voice even lower.  “Does my voice still pull notes out of you you didn’t even know you could sing?”

Therese swallows, hard.  The image of the slightly-askew letter box pops into her head, and suddenly she realizes, and feels on fire.  With a deep breath, she straightens her spine and looking Carol right in the eye, she downs her whiskey in one gulp.  She sets the glass on the table, deliberately, without taking her eyes off Carol and takes two steps toward her.  “Well now.  Why don’t you just find out for yourself?”  


And Carol does.


	5. Tunnels, Trees, and Keys (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves. Things have been a bit...full...the last few weeks, but I have another chapter for you. I should no longer be surprised that these two have their own ideas about how things should go, so this is Part 1 of 2 (I assume, though perhaps I shouldn't) for December 21, 1953.

Monday, December 21st, 1953 (part 1)

Carol pulls the Packard up outside of the Times building and grins as she sees Therese already outside, waiting for her.  _I’m not even late this time, we both must be excited then_ , she thinks as she reaches across to open the door and the younger woman slides in with a bounce on the seat.

“Where to, young lady?” Carol teases.

Therese twists and reaches behind her to leave her bags on the backseat, and giggles at Carol’s question.  “Oh,” she sighs, smiling, shifting back around and smoothing her skirt, “if you’re the driver, then anywhere at all will do.”

Carol warms as she shifts the car into drive and pulls out into traffic.  She can feel Therese’s eyes on her already, and she slides her red-gloved hand across the seat to her.  Therese gathers it up quickly, squeezes it and begins to gently rub the leather with her thumb.

“These were a very good idea,” she murmurs.  With a glance around at the thinning traffic, she runs a hand up Carol’s arm. “And the fur coat, they go quite nicely with it.”

“Indeed, darling.  You do have the best ideas.”  Carol gives her a quick loving glance. “I missed you today, how was your day?”

Therese stretches slightly, without letting go of Carol’s hand.  “Oh, pretty quiet actually.  Knowing I was leaving early with you actually made the hours drag by longer.  Where are we going, anyway?”

Carol purses her lips, not ready to give anything away.  “Oh, you’ll see soon enough.”

Only a few minutes pass before Carol turns off 9th Avenue onto a ramp, and Therese sits up more carefully.  “Carol, this for the Lincoln Tunnel.”

“Yes darling, it is.” Carol tries not to smirk.  
  
“But…where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” she finally grins.  “Impatient!”  They begin to enter the tunnel and everything goes dark.  Carol has to release her hand to steer and switch on the headlights, but immediately reaches back and pulls Therese to her.  “Come here. It’s dark, come here.”

Therese snuggles up beside Carol, leaning her head on her shoulder and wrapping her free arm in hers.  Without taking her eyes off the road, Carol gives her a quick kiss on the head. Today, nothing has to be hidden, unspoken, and though her heart is still tender from Harge taking Rindy, she breathes into the space of joy she feels with Therese next to her.  “You know you wanted this a year ago.”

Therese sighs, and hugs Carol’s arm. “I think I would have fainted. It was all I could do to keep my eyes off you.”

“Which you couldn’t, admit it darling.”

“Which I couldn’t.” Carol notes the shy smile in her voice.  “You could tell?”

“Oh yes.  Don’t you know I can feel your eyes on me like your own hands? Even then.”  She traces Therese’s thigh through her skirt.  “I remember how still you were, I kept wanting to tell you to just breathe.  Oh but it made me smile, how you looked at me.”

“So that was the look on your face then.”

“Mmmhmm.”  Carol draws circles along Therese’s knee.  “I’m glad it’s dark in here, so I can have you close for a few minutes.”

Therese takes a deep breath, rubbing her cheek along the fur.  “Is this what we’re doing today, just riding back and forth in the Lincoln Tunnel?  Not that I object in any way to this!” she adds, bringing Carol’s roaming hand to her lips and kissing it. 

Carol laughs. “Oh darling, you have no idea.”

They ride along the rest of the tunnel quietly, Therese snuggling close to Carol’s shoulder and Carol’s free hand wandering along Therese’s thighs.  When the tunnel ends and they pull out into the light, Therese shifts away, though without letting go of Carol’s hand, held low in her lap where they know no one can see.  Carol feels the ache of the sudden distance, and squeezes Therese’s hand.  “I love you.”

Therese smiles back at her, soft and genuine. “I love you too.”  She looks around, through the car windows.  “I guess it won’t help if I ask again where we’re going.”

“Nope,” Carol chuckles and shakes her head, “but we’ll be there soon.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Well of course, you’re here with me, what’s not to enjoy?” Carol gives Therese a smile.

When they finally pull off the road at the slightly weathered sign that says Christmas Trees in huge white letters on a red background, Therese sits straight up in her seat and nearly bumps her head on the windshield looking out.  “It’s not…it **_is_** , oh Carol, it’s still here.”  Her wide-eyed smile, dimples deep, makes Carol’s heart melt.

“Yes, yes it is.  I drove out last week, just to be sure.” She pulls into park and turns off the car.  With a hand on the door handle, she turns to Therese and raises an eyebrow. “If you see any interesting humans, feel free to take their picture,” Carol winks, noting how Therese dips her head and blushes with a shy smile.  She opens the door and gets out of the car, then lowers her head back inside.  “Well come on, slowpoke!”

Carol chuckles as Therese gives herself a shake and reaches to the backseat for her camera bag. Soon they are wandering the rows of trees, close to each other, but not too close.

“Carol” –

“Yes, darling.” Carol runs her red-gloved hand along the bright green needles of the nearest tree.  “This one’s lovely, don’t you think?”

“Carol, you know we already have a tree at” – she lowers her voice – “the Blue place, you know?”

Carol’s lips twitch. “Yes darling, and Madison too, I know.  However there’s a spot I have in mind that definitely needs one.”  She gives the tree they’re looking at the once-over.  “This one, though very nice, is too tall.  Let’s look for one that’s just a couple or so feet tall.”

“A couple of feet…” Therese pretends to be exasperated but Carol sees the twinkle in her eyes.  “Carol, you’re not going to tell me what you’re up to, are you?”

“It’s all a surprise, darling, trust me. Now let’s find a tree, shall we?” 

Both women are trying not to grin like mad. Therese snaps a few photos of Carol measuring and sizing up trees. Eventually they settle on a tree about two and half feet tall, thick with plenty of branches and needles.  Carol pays and arranges for the tree to be put in the car while Therese buys donuts and coffee from the little girl at the table next to the cashier.  They settle into the car, sipping their coffee before driving again. 

“Where to now? Assuming you’ll tell me,” Therese smirks. 

“Oh no, that’s easy enough, we’re heading back to the Madison place.”  Carol innocently takes a bite of her donut.

“Oh?”  Therese cocks an eyebrow as she drinks her coffee. “Does that mean we’re going back through the Lincoln Tunnel?”

“Oh you’d better believe, it, darling,” Carol replies, tucking her empty paper cup behind her seat.  “Shall we?”

Therese is already moving into Carol’s arms as they enter the tunnel again.  She pulls the glove off Carol’s right hand and presses her hand to her cheek. “Oh Carol,” she whispers, and kisses the palm of the hand. 

Carol inhales, tries to concentrate on the road and not close her eyes to Therese’s touch.  “Dearest,” she murmurs, and even at the odd angle manages to caress Therese’s cheekbone with her fingers.  She’s sure the contentment she feels humming under her skin is illuminating the tunnel as they drive along.

Therese kisses her palm again and settles their hands in her lap, leaning her head into Carol’s shoulder. “What a wonderful idea this was, Carol.  To do this again…and now…” Her voice trails off.

“And now - what, darling?” Carol enourages.

“Oh, that I can hold your hand, and…take your picture, and…Carol, a year ago I hardly had words and now here we are, I can hardly believe it. I remember that day, how I thought I could not be happier as we stood in that tree lot, but oh my god Carol, this” – she tightens her hands around Carol’s – “I guess I just feel a little overwhelmed, in a good way.”

“I remember,” Carol murmurs, “standing in that tree lot wishing I could buy you all the trees, feeling your eyes on me, your camera…”

“You smiled at me.”

“Yes, yes I did.”

Therese sighs. “I love that smile. I don’t need the photograph to remember how kind and gentle it was.”

Carol is too moved to know what to say to that, so she squeezes Therese’s hands and kisses her head.  As they leave the tunnel Therese starts to shift away again but Carol holds her back.  “No, it’s getting dark now, stay here, please?”

Therese looks at Carol. “Are you sure? Are you ok?”

“Oh,”  Carol waves the fingers of her driving hand vaguely, “yes, I just feel like having you close to me is all.  Is that all right, darling?”

“Of course, Carol.”  She takes a deep breath.  “Mmm, the tree smells good.” 

“And it’s not taking up the whole side of the car, I can actually see you this time,” Carol chuckles.

Therese laughs.  “Where are we going to put all these trees, Carol?”

Carol tosses her head as she laughs along. “Patience, darling, patience!”


	6. Tunnels, Trees, and Keys (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter, which I hope is worthy of all your patience! And now I add my deepest thanks to Ligeria for being such a good second set of eyes.

Monday, December 21st, 1953 (Part 2)

 

Carol knows exactly how to walk through the lobby of the Madison Avenue apartment building: chin up, head cocked just so, full of confidence. She knows her walk defies any questions, especially when she is with Therese (and she knows this particular walk makes Therese breathe in just a certain, uneven way, which is also why she walks this way even if the lobby is empty).  She draws on all that confidence in this moment as she enters the lobby with Therese, burlap-wrapped spruce bundled in her arms. 

“Will you please call the elevator, Therese? I’ll be right there.”

“Of course, Carol.” 

Therese heads towards the elevators and Carol turns to the doorman, setting the tree down momentarily.  She opens her bag and pulls out a twenty dollar bill.  “No callers this evening, Robert, please,” she says kindly as she slips the bill into his palm.  “I appreciate it so much.”

“Of course, ma’am. Are you in need of any assistance?” he asks, fully understanding, with a gesture to the tree.

“No thank you, my friend and I will be able to manage.” Carol hoists the tree up easily.  “Have a good evening, Robert, and thank you again.”

“Of course, ma’am.  You as well.”

Carol arrives at the elevator where Therese is holding the doors open and winks at her.  They ride up quietly with two other people.   Carol can tell by the way Therese is fidgeting that her excitement for the surprise is getting the better of her, and she smiles softly to herself.

When they reach the door of apartment, Therese unlocks it with her key.  But before they can go in, Carol holds the door closed with her foot.

“When we go in, darling, wait in the entryway until I tell you, ok?”

Therese giggles, blushing shyly as she opens the door. “Ok, Carol, ok!”

They enter and Carol immediately kicks off her shoes before setting the tree against the hallway wall.  She turns and closes the door, locking the knob, then emphatically turning the deadbolt and drawing the chain.  She gives Therese a kiss on the cheek before picking up the tree again.  “I won’t be but a moment, dearest, I promise.”

Her own heart is pounding as she heads into the living room, finally placing the fragrant spruce just where she wants it, removing the burlap and fluffing out its branches.  Everything is ready, as perfect as it can be, she hopes, as she turns on just one lamp in a corner, bathing the room in a gentle light.  She stands in the middle of the room and surveys it, taking a deep breath.  She shakes out her hands to keep them from trembling.  _I hope she loves it._  

Walking back to the entry, she takes off her fur and gloves as she smiles at Therese, who has already hung up her coat and scarf; her shoes are in a pile with Carol’s near the coat closet.  “Just let me hang up my coat, and then we’re ready.” 

Therese just nods, eyes wide and hands clasped in front of her, rocking on her feet in anticipation as Carol hangs up her coat.

Carol turns and comes behind Therese, putting her hands on her shoulders and leaning in so that she can whisper in her ear.  “All right, darling.  Ready?”  She smiles at the younger woman’s quick shudder as she nods, and she reaches down to clasp her hand to draw her towards the living room.

Slowly they walk together into the living room. Therese comes stock still with a gasp.

“Oh Carol …”  Therese sighs, breathless.

Carol holds her hand, steady, as Therese sways almost imperceptibly then leans lightly into her.

“How …”

Carol tries to see with Therese’s eyes the changes to the living room. Where there had been a love seat under the window, now there is a baby grand piano, the satin sheen of the Steinway mahogany gleaming even in the low light.  The sofa and side chairs have been shifted to frame an angle on one side of the fireplace while opening the space out towards the piano – as if the instrument expects an audience.  The large Christmas tree, already decorated, is still in its corner, but the smaller, new one, still bare but freshly fluffed out by Carol only moments earlier, is sitting atop the piano, the small stand covered by a deep green felted tree skirt spangled with metallic stars.

“Carol …”

“It’s yours, darling,” Carol hums, low, and finally, Therese takes a small step forward, only to turn back to Carol at once.

“But … how?”

Carol smiles softly. “A customer at the store wanted to sell it. I knew right away where it was meant to be.  I ended up trading him a Queen Anne dining suite for it. I must say I got the better end of the deal” – she gently tucks a strand of hair behind Therese’s ear – “just to see your face in this moment.”

Therese swallows and turns back towards the piano. “It’s gorgeous … oh Carol but it’s so extravagant…”

“Nonsense,” Carol replies. “And anyway, you’re worth this and so much more.”

Therese still hasn’t moved, though; she stares at the piano, and Carol feels the nervousness in her hands again.  “Go ahead, darling, it’s in great shape. I had someone here all day making sure it’s all tuned and everything is working properly.”

At last Therese steps towards the piano, and Carol releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.  She watches as Therese grazes a hand along the polished wood, and then picks up the sheet music sitting on the rail, as if she has just realized it was there, and holds it reverently in her hands.

“Easy Living,” she finally says, her voice barely a whisper. 

Carol gently comes alongside her and lays a hand on her shoulder.  “Yes. Seems right, doesn’t it?”

Therese just nods as Carol points towards the piano bench. “There’s more there …”

The younger woman is wide-eyed. “More?”  She stoops to open the bench and begins pulling out more music, sheet music – “No Other Love,” “Stardust,” “Night and Day,” “In the Still of the Night” – and books of Brahms, Beethoven, Debussy, and anthologies.

“Carol, I … I don’t even know what to say.” Therese looks up at her, astonishment across her face.

Carol feels suddenly shy herself, and steps back into the curve of the piano’s body.  “I thought … well, there are some of our … favorite songs, and … I didn’t know what else you liked but you’ve spoken of those composers and I thought … well whatever you want darling, you can have whatever you want.”

Therese rises and flings her arms around Carol, music still in hand.  “Carol, I’m just … I’m overwhelmed, this is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Carol kisses Therese’s forehead and pulls her closer. “You deserve it darling, you do.”  They stand holding each other for a long moment, Carol taking deep breaths and feeling Therese do the same in the stillness.  Finally they pull apart, slowly, and Therese reverently stacks the music on the side of the piano, books to one side, sheet music on the rail. Carol moves closer to the small tree sitting atop it, resting her hand on a thick dark blue hardcover book lying next to the tree.  Her heart feels as if it is tripping over itself, and she takes a shaky breath.

“Darling, there’s ornaments here for the tree.”  She gestures towards a box of delicate red glass orbs with shimmering indented multi-colored starbursts as Therese looks up and seems to notice the tree, the ornaments, and the book for the first time, her eyes going from one to the other and back to Carol’s face, still and somewhat puzzled. “And … one more thing.”

She slides the book towards Therese. “I know … this is not exactly in the right order of anniversaries but … well, this is yours.”

Therese picks up the book, the _Oxford Book of English Verse_ , and stares down at its cover with a deep breath.  “You … you have it?” she asks in wonder.

Carol swallows, still a bit nervous.  To her, the book is even more bold a gift than the piano. “Yes, they didn’t take it, remember? I found it when I … well, when I went back, and I … well I kept it, obviously.”

She watches Therese bite at her lip, working things through in her head as she turns the book over, opens the front cover, thumbs a few pages. 

“But … didn’t I leave this on Christmas Eve, before we left?”

Carol smiles softly. “Yes, that’s what I mean, that’s not today’s anniversary. But … look towards the back.”

Therese fans the pages in the back half of the book, and gasps as the pages fall open where folded tissue paper lies between them.  With the greatest care, eyes wide and shimmering, Therese lifts up the string of paper angels she had cut one year ago this night.  “Carol …” she breathes, as she opens the string up in its fullness.  “You kept it, oh Carol …”

Carol’s eyes burn as she watches Therese handle the string of angels with such tenderness, and she fumbles in the pocket of her dress for a tissue to wipe her eyes.  “Of course, darling. ‘Twenty two angels to defend me,’ how could I not keep them?” 

Therese comes over to the tree and begins encircling it with the paper angels.  “Oh Carol, I’m so … I can’t believe it!”

Carol is relieved Therese is finally smiling again; it all is quite so much, how she loves to indulge the younger woman, and she always wrestles with the bit of doubt that it is too much. The room nonetheless feels very still in the midst of so much emotion, but Therese is smiling, and reaches now for a red glass ornament, and Carol does the same.

“When I … came back,” Carol begins, gently hanging the glass ball on a branch and reaching for another, “I had to put away the Christmas decorations.   Florence was supposed to if we had … if we had been gone longer, but …” Carol shifts her shoulders at the memory. “The house was so empty. I wandered the rooms that first night, nursing a rye, and found your book. I read through some of it, wondering where in it you had left the letter.”  She looks down at the ornament in her hands, remembering with tinge of pain around her heart.  “The next morning I took the tree down, put everything away – and actually most of those decorations I did not keep with the move, you know.  But the angels…I folded them and put them in your book, as much as it … well, I ached for you, but I kept them – kept this piece of you.”

Carol notices that Therese has stopped hanging ornaments, and is watching her now with that deep, kind expression Carol has loved from the beginning.  Carol nods towards the book. “Browning, I think? Where I put the angels.” 

Therese reaches for the book; the pages have stayed laid open, and she picks it up to read it.  “This one?” She points at the second poem on the page

Carol looks over her shoulder and nods.  “Yes. That’s the one.”

Therese reads silently while Carol hangs the ornament she had been holding and then fidgets with her fingers.  Unexpectedly, Therese begins to read out loud.

_… The widest land_   
_Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine_   
_With pulses that beat double. What I do_   
_And what I dream include thee, as the wine_   
_Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue_   
_God for myself, He hears that name of thine,_   
_And sees within my eyes the tears of two._

 

Both women are quiet for a moment, then Therese reaches out for Carol’s hand and kisses it. “I … Carol, it’s strange but … somehow it’s beautiful, now anyway, beautiful in this strange way to know all this. That you kept them, the angels, the book … and that the angels lived here, with this poem that …” Therese takes Carol’s face in her hands. “This poem aches like you did. Like I did too. I don’t even …”

Carol smiles softly, and leans forward to kiss Therese gently on the mouth.  “Yes. All that, yes. And here we are. Who would have thought it, a year ago?”

Therese smiles back, dimples deep and eyes shining.  “Well, I certainly _hoped_ we would be here, though I don’t think I would’ve quite imagined _this._ ” She grins, waving towards the piano and its decorated tree, and both women laugh.

“You will play for me, darling?” Carol asks with a wink. The air feels suddenly livelier. _It’s her smile_ , Carol thinks, _her happiness now, how it fills the room_.

“Of course.  Pour us a drink and let’s see what kind of a little concert I can come up with.”  She picks up the book one more time.  “But … how about, when we put the angels away, we put them in here where I left the letter?”

Carol cocks her head.  “You remember where that was?”

“Oh yes.”  And closing the book and setting it near the tree, Therese begins to recite as she moves to settle on the piano bench:

_She walks in beauty, like the night_   
_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_   
_And all that’s best of dark and bright_   
_Meet in her aspect and her eyes;_   
_Thus mellowed to that tender light_   
_Which heaven to gaudy day denies._

 

Carol pours them both a glass of whiskey and soda and brings Therese her glass.  “Oh my,” she hums when Therese finishes.  “Yes, that sounds perfect, darling. You do have the best ideas.”

They toast glasses and sip their drinks.  Carol heads to the couch and sits back, crossing her legs and mindlessly running her fingers through her hair.  She gazes fondly at Therese as the younger woman takes another sip of her drink, then carefully sets the glass on a small table away from the piano, and begins to sort through the sheet music.  Her own nervousness has faded and now an undercurrent of contentment sings under her skin. 

Carol bobs her foot, swirling the whiskey in her glass, as Therese pulls “Easy Living” from the music and sets it on the rail.  With a quick side glance towards Carol, Therese puts her hands on the piano bench on either side of herself, gripping the edge of the lid with her fingers.  She closes her eyes and leans forward slightly.

“No rush, darling – whenever you’re ready,” Carol encourages her. 

Therese doesn’t move for a moment, then slowly opens her eyes and places her hands over the keys, sliding her fingers gently over them, back and forth, _caressing them_ , Carol thinks and swallows hard. She remembers the same gesture a year ago, a gesture she now knows well on her own body, and feels herself grow warm at the thought.

But Therese has gone still, her hands have gone still, and, Carol notes, the room has gone still again.  Carol uncrosses her legs and leans forward on the sofa, noting that Therese is breathing shallowly, eyes closed again.

“Darling?” She sets her glass on the side table, attentive, and notices Therese look over her shoulder up the hallway in the direction of the front door.

Carol sees the distress in Therese’s eyes and is instantly on her feet and across the room, laying her hands on Therese’s shoulders and leaning over to speak more directly to her.  “Therese, nobody is coming,” she says with a gentle, devoted firmness.  “Nobody can get in.  There are three locks on that door, you and I have the only keys, and I tipped the doorman a twenty. No one, no one is getting in here tonight.”

Therese shakes under Carol’s hands; Carol shifts to sit on the bench and pulls Therese to her, an arm around her waist and a hand pressing her head to her chest.  She kisses the dark hair as she feels Therese’s arms wind around her.  “Oh my dearest heart,” she murmurs, “it’s just you and me.  Like it always should have been.”  She tightens her hold on Therese.  “Even Abby knows not to show up here tonight.”

A teary, muffled guffaw bursts from Therese.  “I’m not worried about Abby,” she half giggles, and sniffs.  “But I’m glad you told her.”  She pulls back slightly and wipes her eyes.  “I don’t know what came over me, I just … so many memories, I guess.”

“Of course, darling, and that night was … well, plenty certainly happened.” Carol entwines their hands together.

“And plenty didn’t, that I wanted to,” Therese adds shyly, looking down at their hands.

Carol feels her mouth go dry at that, and licks her lips. “Oh? Is that so?” she breathes, suddenly quite aware of her body again, her skin, as Therese takes her face in her hands.

“Oh yes.”  Therese is looking right into Carol’s eyes now, suddenly bold, and the room seems to crackle to life, sparking in the air between them.  “You’ve read my letter; you know.” She leans forward and breathes warm onto Carol’s neck, under her hair behind her ear. “’If you wanted to touch me … ’” she reminisces, and bites lightly into the tendon of Carol’s neck while running a hand over the curve of her hip.

Carol moans and pulls Therese into a kiss both tender and fierce, all the sweet-tinged ache and joy of the evening unraveling into a passion that threatens to undo her, to undo them both as they find their way to each other, find their way deeper into each other.  “Therese, my love,” Carol murmurs breathless into Therese’s mouth.

Only when Therese bangs a discordant chord with her elbow on the keyboard, trying to unbutton Carol’s dress without losing contact with her lips, do they stumble to their feet and head for the bedroom.

The piano goes unplayed that night, but in her last coherent moment, Carol realizes she does not care; she will get her concert eventually, and now a greater music is being laid bare that no Steinway could ever reproduce.  She arches back under Therese’s nimble fingers caressing intricate suspensions along her thighs, her spine, the curve of a breast, and she is never quite sure if she pleads **_play me_** with her breath or her body but the dissolving and resolving harmonies of their cries are the same exquisite symphony regardless.

At last basking entwined together under the cooling sheets, Carol is drifting off into sleep when Therese suddenly giggles. Carol stirs herself.  “What’s that about?”

Therese giggles again and kisses Carol’s cheek.  “The piano was under the tree. You figured out how to get a piano under the Christmas tree.  Only you would do that.”

Carol chuckles and snuggles Therese closer into her chest. “Happy anniversary, darling,” she whispers with a kiss to her head.

“Happy anniversary, Carol.”  
  


* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnets From the Porguese, #6:  
> http://www3.amherst.edu/~rjyanco94/literature/elizabethbarrettbrowning/poems/sonnetsfromtheportuguese/gofrommeyetifeelthatishallstand.html
> 
> Lord Byron, She Walks in Beauty:  
> https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/43844


	7. Show Me Your Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> got a touch stuck (and busy) but here we are. Enjoy, loves!  
> (and big thanks to Ligeria for checking after posting!)

Tuesday, December 22nd, 1953

 

Therese shifts her feet underneath herself as she sits on the floor in front of the coffee table, building a pyramid out of the 50 new boxes of camera film Carol brought home tonight.  _How does she do it? She snuck my own suitcase out of this apartment and I didn’t even realize it_. She smiles softly to herself as she stacks a row of black and white film on top of the color, and sneaks a look up to Carol, stretched out on the sofa.  _Look at her. Still holding my pictures, she hasn’t taken her eyes off them_. Therese’s heart beats stronger with wonder. _I’m so glad she loves them_.

Therese had presented the framed photographs to Carol after they had both returned home from work. Carol had arrived after Therese, carrying the younger woman’s suitcase, which had made Therese laugh in a kind of gleeful awe, especially when she opened it and discovered it full of film.  Then Therese had taken Carol’s red wool coat, damp from the afternoon’s heavy snow, and inhaled its warm scent deeply before hanging it in the kitchen to dry. Finally she retrieved the wrapped package of photos where she had hidden it away in the wardrobe and made her way back to the living room.  Carol was already sitting on the sofa, rubbing at the back of her neck, eyes closed.

“Oh darling, such a long day, I can’t wait for some time off this weekend,” she said with a yawn.

Therese settled next to Carol on the couch and placed the package in her lap. 

“What’s this?”  Carol picked up the package and shook it at her ear, grinning.

“Silly, just open it!”

Inside the Christmas holly wrapping paper were two frames.  One was a double frame, matted in black to highlight the black and white photography.  On each side was a photo of the two of them together: Therese had brought a camera and tripod home from work several weeks before and set them up in the living room to take a roll of photos of them using the camera’s special timer. Carol had not yet seen any of the photos, and these two were Therese’s favorites, ones that had made her smile deep into her bones as they revealed themselves in the developing fluid.  The two of them were on the couch, Therese’s knees up almost in Carol’s lap, arms draped around each other’s bodies.  In the first, their foreheads were pressed together, shyly smiling, hands clasped together. In the other, Therese, her head up under Carol’s chin, had just nipped at Carol’s jawline when the shutter clicked and caught both women in the most delightful of laughing grins.  

The second frame held an eight-by-ten photograph, again black and white, that made Carol gasp when she uncovered it.  Therese was immensely proud of this photo:  Rindy wrapped up in Carol’s arms, mother and daughter cheek to cheek, both faces radiating joy.  Therese was pleased with the composition and use of light, but even more for having captured that rapturous moment when Rindy had run and leapt into her mother’s arms at their last visit in October.  

Carol had been speechless and teary, and is still holding the framed photos like precious treasures in her lap as Therese places the final film box on top of her pyramid and cocks her head at Carol.

“Carol” –

“Oh darling, I’m just so overwhelmed. Thank you, thank you for these.  They are” – she traces her fingers along the glass of the double frame – “incredible. Stunning. I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m so glad you like them, Carol.”  Therese rises to her feet and moves to the couch, propping Carol’s legs in her lap. 

“’Like’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, my love. Thank you.” Carol reaches across and squeezes her hand, beaming.  “You truly have a gift, you know that, right?”

Therese casts her eyes down, shyly quirks her mouth and just nods.   Carol squeezes her hand tighter to make her look up, and they gaze at each other in contented silence for a long moment. 

With a happy sigh, Therese angles herself on the couch so that she can see Carol better, still keeping her legs across her lap.  Carol holds up the double frame of their photos. 

“I’m so glad we took these, it’s so hard to get pictures of the two of us.”

Therese is absentmindedly sliding her hand up and down Carol’s leg, gazing at the curve of the ankle.  “Well you complain about the photo-chemicals in the icebox,” she smirks with a quick glance to Carol, “but there _are_ advantages to having a darkroom in one’s own home.”

Carol raises her eyebrows in mock offense. “Do I complain?” Therese giggles, and Carol looks back at the photos, then again at Therese until she catches her eye.  “Well, darling,” she hums, “we’ll have to take advantage of that more often.”

Therese gulps; something about how Carol has dropped her voice lower makes Therese’s spine feel like it’s radiating heat, and somehow she doesn’t think the other woman just means more reasonably chaste photos on the couch.  Therese circles the edge of her fingernail along the ankle bone of Carol’s foot, and decides to fight with a little fire.

“I had another photo framed, just for me.”

“Oh really?” Carol is intrigued. “And?”

Therese doesn’t look up, but draws her nails up Carol’s shin, making the other woman shiver.  “And?”

“And do I get to see it, obviously, darling.” Carol slowly draws her legs back out of Therese’s lap, quirking an eyebrow with playful challenge.

Therese just rolls her eyes as she rises with a giggle.  “All right, all right!”  She retrieves the photo from the same hiding spot in the wardrobe and returns, placing the frame in Carol’s lap and squirreling back into the corner of the couch.

Carol turns the ebony frame over in her hands, her eyes going wide when she sees the photo:  Therese’s favorite candid shot from their trip the previous year, of Carol in her fur coat, leaning back against the car seat, staring at her over the tops of her sunglasses with her knuckles pressed to her mouth.

“I remember exactly where that was,” Therese suddenly speaks in a breathless rush.  “Right after lunch, between Pittsburg and Canton, as we got back in the car. Do you remember? The sun was still bright. You actually posed for me, I thought I would die the way you looked at me there. It’s my favorite from all our trip.”

“I remember,” Carol murmurs, sliding her feet back into Therese’s lap.  “Somewhere in Ohio, we wandered a bit that day, we found that grove of trees for lunch. The light was…magnificent.”

Therese simply places her hands on Carol’s bare feet, noticing the smooth coolness against her skin. “You’re magnificent.”

Carol shakes her head.  “I’m sure the Stieglitz ones in Illinois were better” –

Therese cuts her off with a look. “They’re artistic enough, I guess, but this one” – she reaches for the photo and takes the frame in her hands – “this one is my favorite. Because this, this look…it’s just for me.”  She smiles deeply at Carol and sets the frame on the coffee table; Carol carefully does the same with the other two frames.

Therese regards the other woman for a moment, noting the shy cast to her eyes.  “Carol?”

“Yes, darling?” Carol looks up, stretching her feet in Therese’s lap.

“I was thinking.” Therese feels slightly nervous, as if this is all backwards, but forges ahead anyway.  “We haven’t talked about our Christmas plans, what with the change about Rindy …and we had to cancel our Vermont trip for…well for New Year’s Eve…”

Carol nods, curious.

“…and I was thinking, well, we both have Friday off for Christmas…”

“Yes, yes we do.”

“And we both get off work early on Christmas Eve...”

“Mmhmm.” 

“So we have a long weekend and so I was wondering” – Therese swallows, blinks hard, and goes on – “well I even called, the hotel in Pittsburgh has a vacancy, I don’t think we could make it all the way to Canton, though, even with how you drive” –

And Carol throws her head back in a rippling laugh, delight floating down on them both like the snow outside, and Therese has a bright startled grin as Carol grabs her hands and pulls her close, covering her face in light kisses.  “West, darling, west,” she hums the question into Therese’s skin, and Therese finds her mouth to sing back into it “I would, I would, I would.”

 

 

* * *


	8. Gone Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two, I'm telling you. I swear this is not where I thought this was going when I started this, but they have their own ideas! XO  
> And Ligeria is the best. Immense thanks.

Friday, December 25th, 1953

 

The tomato soup was, to be honest, not any more savory than it had been the year before.  Therese had slowly swallowed a spoonful, then given Carol a look.  “Oh Carol, the difference that salt makes,” she had muttered, and twitched a sarcastic grin as she began crumbling her crackers into the bowl.

Salt, and Carol’s mind had skittered off into letters, butter, cream, cascades of words and desire and questions, and the memory of the ache she had felt a year ago, a lonely rawness that lived just behind the top of her breastbone which was scratching to the surface again. Now she rubs her hands across the tops of her thighs, closes her eyes and tries to take a deeper breath. _At least we are at the same table_ , she tells herself, but a restlessness she can’t name is prickling under her skin, and she clenches her toes in her shoes.  _Goddammit, this is supposed to be a good day_.

Picking up her spoon she stirs absently at her soup. The last two days had been a whirlwind, each finishing up the Christmas hustle at their jobs, shopping for their trip, and packing up – the blue sweater, her pantsuit with the plaid jacket.  But Carol had felt excited, almost electrically so, to be on the road again with Therese, even if for only a few days.  Therese had played Christmas carols on the piano last night until at last Carol could not stand it and pulled her to the couch where they snuggled and shared eggnog spiked with Bushmill’s. They had finally collapsed into bed giggly, Carol savoring the creamy whisky-stung flavor of Therese’s mouth until they at last fell asleep.

The snowstorm had passed and the sun was shining as they left New York, hand immediately in hand, but with the ice and snow the roads were trickier than last year.  Carol finally had to put both hands on the steering wheel and concentrate much harder than she really wanted to.  The drive to Philly was quiet, and stressful, and as Carol breaks up a cracker between her fingers to salt the soup, she realizes that’s when the ache started.  _But I still feel it, even though we’re here, in the same booth, Therese is right here. Goddammit, why can’t I just be happy?_

Carol feels a hand brush against her forearm, and looks up to see Therese looking at her, eyes slightly squinted in concern.  The green in them makes Carol’s breath catch.  A line from one of Therese’s letters floats into her mind: “ _Where are you taking me, Carol?_ ”

“Carol?” Therese gently draws her hand back with a quick glance around the diner.  “What is it?  You’re gone again, where are you?”

Carol gives her head a small shake, as if trying to clear it of fog, and runs her hand up the back of her neck.  “I…” – _pull yourself together, Carol_ – “Darling, I’m fine. I’m just…” But her voice fades as she notices Therese shifting in her seat, straightening up, a skeptical though not unkind look on her face.  Carol presses her fist into her chest, the ache there now tinged with shame.  Whatever this feeling is whips at the edges of her mind; now she is both angry at the mood that has stolen over her, and afraid it will overtake her and ruin everything, so she leaps.

“Let’s go to the beach.”  She was not expecting those words out of her mouth, and from the puzzled surprise on Therese’s face, Carol knows she was not either.

“The beach? But…” Therese picks up her napkin, folds it and edges the paper crease sharply on the table.  “Pittsburgh, what about Pittsburgh, where we stayed…before?”

Carol feels a burn in the base of her throat, a tightness of words that do not want to be spoken, though she still does not know why, and she cannot quite look at Therese. “The beach, I thought it would be nice, it’s closer and the roads…” She chances a glance at the other woman and can see she is not convinced.

Therese checks there is no one near their table and lowers her voice, leaning forward slightly. “But Carol, I thought…the anniversaries,” she whispers, “you know, and Pittsburgh...”

Carol closes her eyes briefly. _What is wrong with me? What is wrong with Pittsburgh? Now she’s disappointed, I can tell, I would do **anything** for her, why don’t I want to do this?_   She swallows, hard; she wants to speak, but the ache is growing the more lost she feels, and words have disappeared.  She opens her eyes again, forcing herself to meet Therese’s gaze – concerned, trying to stay with her, trying to be patient, but the slightest pull of tightness at the edges of her mouth tell Carol she’s hurt.  Carol opens her mouth to say something, anything, apologize, words, there must be words somewhere – but Therese continues on.

“Carol, do you still think I don’t know when this happens to you, when you go away like this? I see it. I see you. I know you, and you can pretend like you’re fine, and try to change the subject, but I know something is bugging you.”  She takes a sip of her coffee without taking her eyes off Carol, tilting her head at her and softening her eyes in a way that makes Carol find her breath again.  “If you must know, I don’t care where you take me, where we go,” she says softly.  “Honestly. I just want you to tell me what’s going on.  That’s all.”

Carol would give anything to be able to hold Therese’s hand in this moment; the longing for that contact hits her body hard enough to knock her words loose, just enough.

“I don’t want to run away again.”  As soon as Carol rushes the words out she knows they are true, although she is not entirely sure what they mean.

Therese nods, slowly, her brow still furrowed.  “Is that what this feels like to you?”

Carol is waiting for anger, but she doesn’t hear it in Therese’s voice.  “You’re not going to yell at me, be angry?”

Therese shifts in a way that Carol realizes she is also holding herself back from reaching for her.  _Saltless soup, and we can’t even touch each other, Jesus Christ_. Carol desperately wants to get back to the privacy of the car, but where are they going now?

“No, I’m not going to yell at you,” Therese replies. “Why would you think that?  And anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

Carol is amazed, and not for the first time in their year together, by the depths of Therese’s patience with her moods.  She had learned so well to shut down her emotions with Harge, any expression of her own opinion, that it still surprises her that Therese genuinely wants to _know_. Carol takes a deep breath. _I trust her, I can do this_.

“I…I don’t entirely understand it myself.  I think…it feels…too much the same. Not you!” she is quick to add, “not you at all, darling, but…Rindy being taken from me again at this exact same time, tracing these exact steps…a year ago, I fled, in a way, and you were…the greatest of gifts to me, to come with me.  I wouldn’t change that for anything, you know that.  But I…” she pauses, takes a sip at her water, suddenly parched.  “If we are going to celebrate the road trip, then can we make it just about us? Going anywhere?”

Therese has a tender smile on her face, and both women are leaning towards each other, almost rocking, trying to connect without being able to touch. “Carol, that’s all I ever wanted anyway, really.  You, me, going anywhere.”

“Really? Are you sure?  It’s just…especially this first part of the drive, it reminds me too much of the running away part of that trip.  I think that’s what hit me: the stress of the drive, then remembering last year on top of that, and missing Rindy. Again.”

“That makes sense to me, Carol, it does. And I’m sure. As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”

Carol sighs, the clenching in her chest beginning to subside.  Her hands are tingling now, wanting to reach out to Therese.  She tries to put all her gratitude into her gaze instead.  “You are too good to me.”

Therese rolls her eyes and checks the diner again. “Carol,” she whispers, “I love you the way you deserve to be loved. Or at least I hope I do.”

The silence is rich between them, thick with the words they cannot say in a public place; they both jump slightly when the waitress speaks.

“Can I get you ladies anything else? We have a special on Christmas cake.”

Carol looks at Therese with the question, and there is a twinkle in the younger woman’s eye as she answers.  “No, no I don’t think so.”

Carol smiles as the waitress lays the check down and walks away.  “Jeanette has a bungalow on Long Beach Island, I can call her to see if it’s empty…would that be all right?”

Therese nods gently, picking up her coffee to finish it, and Carol goes to the phone after leaving a few bills on the table to cover the check. “Meet me in the car?”

A few minutes later Carol slides into the driver’s seat.  “We’re all set, nobody’s there and there’s a key under a big rock in the back.”  She turns to face Therese. “Darling, are you sure you are ok with this?”

Therese, her hands balled up in her lap, gives her a look Carol can’t quite read.  “Carol, I…I mean yes, yes of course.  I just wanted to tell you…I’m sorry I didn’t realize that all the memories of last year might not be good for you.  I was being selfish again, thinking only of myself, I’m so sorry.”

Carol leans closer. “No, darling, I’m the one who’s sorry, I nearly ruined our Christmas trying to hold everything in.” She shakes her head with a wry grin. “Someday, someday I will figure out how to not try to handle everything myself.”

Therese smiles shyly.  “I mean it, Carol, I could have been more thoughtful. Instead of just assuming.”  She smiles into her dimples now.  “Honestly, I’m just happy to be with you, anywhere. I keep saying it but it’s true.” 

Carol feels a warmth coursing up her body and decides she has had enough. Glancing up and down the street, she nearly growls:  “I cannot stand not touching you,” and pulls Therese’s hands into her own, clasping them tightly.  Another glance, and she leans in to steal the quickest kiss, and another, before shifting back into the driver’s seat and turning on the car. 

“Shall we, dearest?” 

“Please, Carol,” she gasps.

Carol smirks at the near-whimper in Therese’s voice.  Once she has pulled the car onto the road, she reaches for Therese, who takes her hand as they head east.

 

* * *


	9. Beach House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, but they SO love the beach house. This is like 4 chapters worth of beach house, so hopefully it's worth the wait, loves. :-)
> 
> We all know Ligeria is amazing! I'm so deeply grateful for her efforts at keeping my punctuation straight (or queer, as they case may be). Thank you!

Saturday, December 26th, 1953

 

The fire crackles and dances in the hearth. The gentle rolling of waves accompanies the slow jazz of Billie Holiday on the record player. Half-full whiskey tumblers sit on side tables beside the couch, haphazardly strewn with playing cards and one pair of polka-dot pajama bottoms. Pillows and blankets are piled on the floor in front of the fireplace, where Therese lays, one hand clenched into the blankets, the other arm thrown over her face as she gasps.

Carol bites again into the soft flesh behind Therese’s left knee, then kisses up her thigh. She had not been able to hold herself back, not after Therese had so gleefully won the last hand, practically daring Carol to do something about it. So Carol had, tossing the cards and climbing over pillows, almost tearing open Therese’s pajama top in her fury to unbutton it. Now it’s wide open as Therese shifts and arches under Carol’s hands moving up her ribcage and mouth tantalizing her center.  Carol knows her red satin pajamas – the top likewise unbuttoned and hanging open – are shimmering in the firelight, doing their part to drive Therese over the edge, if only –

“Therese, darling, open your eyes.” Carol raises her head, licks her lips and tries to catch her own breath as she waits for Therese to respond. “Look at me, love.”

Therese shifts her arm to uncover her eyes and Carol smiles, mesmerized by her utter openness. “You still with me?” She slides a hand down the other woman’s belly and over her hip, smiling again when Therese shivers.

“Carol…I…” – but Therese, breathless, can’t finish, and just reaches down to clasp Carol’s hand.

The cracking plea in Therese’s voice causes Carol’s heart to clench as she kisses the soft inner thigh, then looks back up. Carol squeezes the small hand in hers. “I love you, that’s all -- I just needed to tell you.”

Therese nods, eyes still open, wide and dark and pulsating. Carol knows she’s lingered long enough, running her free hand up and over Therese’s breast as her tongue begins to trace delicate, exquisite folds.  The moan that pours from Therese’s mouth fills Carol with a sudden urgency, the fire in the hearth no match for the fire of her own desire, and  Carol knows nothing other than these words echoing in her being _– so beautiful, so beautiful, my God, so beautiful, how, how_ – knows nothing other than their bodies, their rhythms, their sounds, their pleasure, until Therese, Carol’s name cascading from her lips, shudders a leaping climax that rolls like waves through Carol’s own bones, and suddenly Carol needs Therese in her arms, dragging kisses up her belly and chest as Therese pulls her upward, desperate, until they are entwined together, shifting onto their sides so their bare skin is touching, and Carol wraps her arms tight around Therese, rocking her, and the clench around her heart shatters into tears.

  
~   ~   ~  
  


The spontaneous change in their trip to head east to the beach was enough to shift Carol out of her melancholy.  The road was still tricky, and she needed both hands on the wheel, but once out of the city Therese shuffled over next to her, resting her head on her shoulder and her left hand on Carol’s right knee, tracing patterns there lightly enough to be attentive but not distracting. _Well, not too much anyway_ , Carol smiled to herself.

They’d been riding in companionable silence for a while when a thought occurred to Carol. “Darling, what was so special about Pittsburgh, anyway? We didn’t even share a room there.”

The hand on her knee stilled momentarily, then started its tracing again when Therese responded. “I think…I think that’s why, that we didn’t, and I wanted to.”

“Oh you did, did you?”  Carol smirked, amused.

“And you didn’t?”

Carol chuckled.  “You have me there, I admit.”  She could feel Therese’s grin even though her eyes were concentrating on the road.

“So,” Therese continued, “you know, I thought…well now we can.  That’s all. We could share the room we wanted to then.”  She paused.  “Well…and…”

“Well what, darling?”  
  
Therese shifted slightly. “Well, I…I saw you, when you were out of the shower…I…that was the first time, and I…well now I don’t have to pretend to not be looking.”

Carol threw her head back with a laugh. “I see.  Now I understand where your penchant for having me in the shower comes from.  Well dearest,” –she briefly dropped her right hand to squeeze Therese’s knee – “I think we can be sure to celebrate that milestone, and gladly.”

Therese simply giggled and snuggled closer to Carol as they drove on under the bright sun.

When they pulled up to the bungalow mid-afternoon, Carol was struck first by how far away the other houses were. _We really are on our own_ , she thought as they walked the wrap-around porch to the back to find the key.  Once they found it, the two women leaned against the porch rail and looked out over the beach.

Therese took a deep breath of the crisp sea air.  “Carol, this is _gorgeous_ , this is _perfect_.”  Tentatively, she reached out a hand, and Carol took it, resting them on top of the rail.

The bungalow sat up behind berms of tall, dried grasses. A wooden walkway led the short distance from the house to the white, wide beach, still gleaming as the mid-winter sun was beginning its descent behind them. Only Therese shivering broke their reverie – “Darling, you always leave your coat in the car,” Carol teased – and they headed back to the car to unload.

After getting settled, Carol taught Therese how to build a fire in the large fireplace, which warmed up the place well once the dry wood caught.  They had a simple supper of sandwiches, apples, and beer sitting on pillows in front of the fire, leaning back against the couch.  Finishing her sandwich, Therese crumpled up the wax paper and tossed it into the fire, provoking a laugh from Carol. “Careful now,” she teased, “we don’t want to burn the place down. We just got here for Christ’s sake!”  In response, Therese snatched the wax paper from Carol’s sandwich and tossed it into the fire with a giggle. 

Carol slapped playfully at Therese’s arm as the younger woman threw her leg across both of Carol’s to straddle her lap and face her.  “You sure you don’t want more fire?” she murmured, and Carol’s breath caught at the glint in Therese’s eye as she leaned in and kissed her, pressing her back into the sofa cushions.  Just as Carol began to draw her hands up to the other woman’s face to deepen the kiss, Therese shifted off of her again, leaving Carol breathless as she watched Therese, her eyebrow cocked in a very pleased smirk, clamber to her feet,.

“I’ll be right back,” Therese announced, and headed to the bedroom while Carol tried to recover her senses. In a few moments she was back with a small wrapped package in her hands.  “I have something for you,” she said as she sat back down next to Carol and placed the package on the blanket between them. “And don’t tell me ‘I shouldn’t have’ because for one thing it’s Christmas and, for another, I’m doing it anyway.”

“Oh? Well, I have something for you, too.”  Carol rose and retrieved something from her bag; settling back on the floor she placed two envelopes next to Therese’s package.  “You first,” she said with a nod towards the envelopes, with a note of bravado she did not entirely feel as she wondered what Therese would think. She fidgeted with her hands as Therese picked up the envelopes.

They were both plain letter envelopes, nothing written on the outside of one.  Therese selected the one that said “Letter” on it written by hand, and slid her finger through the flap to open it.  From inside she pulled out a few sheets of letter paper. Carol bit her lip and waited as Therese’s eyes began to scan the first page; only a few seconds passed before Therese gasped and looked up at Carol, eyes wide in astonishment.

“Carol, how…it’s my letter, how did you get this? I thought the lawyers had it and it was gone forever, how did you…oh Carol…”

Carol smiled, beyond pleased. “Our new lawyer, darling, let’s just say she’s a spitfire.  Apparently she told them if they didn’t hand over all the illegally obtained items she’d bring them before the bar for constitutional violations. I guess that worked.  So you now have your letter back. And other…items…have been destroyed.”

Therese turned the pages over again in her hands, in awe.  “I can’t believe…but Carol, this is really for you, you read it, didn’t you?” she asked, looking up again.

“Actually, I did not.  She gave it to me in that envelope, and knowing that you wrote these letters not really intending for me to see them, I wanted to respect that and made sure you had it first. It is yours, darling, to do with what you wish.”

Therese looked over the pages again.  “But…I want you to read it. To have it now, like the others.”

“Then read it I shall, darling, later if that’s all right,” she replied with a nod towards the other gifts still waiting.

Therese nodded and smiled as she folded the letter back into the envelope, setting it next to Carol and leaning in to kiss her cheek.  “Thank you, Carol, that means so much to me to have that back, it really does.”

“I’m so glad, darling, I am.” Carol picked up the other envelope and held it out to her.  “Now this one.”

A huge grin broke out on Therese’s face as she opened the envelope and pulled out a small pad of paper covered in numbers:  the scoresheet from their ongoing gin rummy games from last year’s road trip.  “Carol!  You kept this? Oh my god!”

Carol was grinning now too.  “I did!  I had to keep the proof that I did actually win four times in a row!”

Therese laughed. “Did you bring cards?”

“Indeed I did.”

“Well then we’ll pick up right where we left off, only this time don’t think I’ll let you beat me like that again.”

“Ha!  I won fair and square!”

Therese rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, then turned thoughtful, holding the notepad, “McKinley Motel” imprinted on the top.  “You kept this,” she said quietly.

“I did, darling.” She reached across and tucked a strand of hair behind Therese’s ear.  “Why, what are you thinking?”

Therese gazed into the fire.  “I…you kept this, you kept the angels, you kept my book…I just…” She looked up into Carol’s eyes. “My heart, it just feels…full, I don’t even have words for how this feels, that you kept them, that…you remembered me that time we were apart. I just…” She shook her head in wonder, eyes glistening.

Carol rubbed Therese’s back, a warmth enveloping her heart.  “How could I not, darling,” she said gently, “how could I not?”  They leaned in and kissed softly.  “Merry Christmas, my love,” Carol whispered.

Therese sighed deeply, content, as they pulled apart.  She stacked the two envelopes together and set them back next to the small square gift box.  “Now you!” she declared, with a bit of a bounce and a deep dimpled smile as she held out the box to Carol.

Carol shook the box at her ear, hearing a light scratching rattle.  “Hmm! What could this be?”  She slowly peeled off first the ribbon, then the paper, smirking as she noticed out of the corner of her eye how Therese bounced again, impatient.  Finally she lifted off the lid, inhaling sharply in surprise.  With the utmost care she drew out a gold bracelet, six charms dangling off the interwoven links. “Oh, Therese,” she breathed.  She laid the bracelet in her palm, tracing the charms with her fingers: tiny gold versions of a train engine, a grand piano, an LP record, a car, a camera, and... “A cricket?” she asked, looking up from the bracelet into Therese’s beaming face.

“It’s for Rindy.  The others, they’re us, but that one is for Rindy. Remember? You told me that story about how she let crickets loose in the house.  I wanted Rindy to be there and I saw that and knew it was perfect.”

Carol was speechless, feeling her eyes burn with tears as she continued to run her fingers over the small symbols of their story.

“The charms,” Therese continued quietly as she reached out and took the bracelet, carefully unclasping it and laying it across Carol’s palm as she spoke, a bit breathless with nerves, “well, they are obvious what they are. But I wanted… well I wanted something you could wear, something about us…and well, a ring…that didn’t seem right, that’s a thing men give women for marriage and well…that’s not us and I didn’t want you to have to answer any questions you didn’t want to…and I thought, I love how gold bracelets look on your wrists, especially when they have charms or pendants and how you play with them sometimes when you talk, or you’re nervous, and so I thought…”  She picked up the bracelet again.  “This…this is our story, and you can wear it to have me close, or whenever you need to remember, and” – she circled the bracelet around Carol’s wrist and clasped it – “I can keep adding to it as we keep adding to our story.”  She looked up at Carol. “I…I hope you like it.”

Carol raised her wrist and watched, mesmerized as the charms danced in the firelight. She could not remember a more meaningful gift. “Darling, I love it, I…my god.” She felt overwhelmed with feelings she didn’t quite have words for, so she pulled Therese to her, embracing her to her chest.  “My dearest, darling heart, my love,” she murmured as she rocked them back and forth and felt Therese’s arms sliding around her back.  “I love it. I love you. Thank you, thank you.”

The rest of the evening was spent quietly in front of the fire, close together, hands entwined, each taking turns fingering the charms on Carol’s bracelet, whispering bits of stories and memories, sharing tender kisses, and sometimes just holding each other in silence.  Carol read the last letter, her head in Therese’s lap – a letter which resulted in a much longer kiss, slipping hands along skin and under satin. Eventually they ventured out onto to the back porch, bundled in coats and blankets, to watch the waning half-moon rising over the ocean.  They were both spellbound by the beauty, and Carol opened her arms to bundle Therese to her under her own coat and blanket. 

They slept that night as well as Carol could ever remember. Something about the solitude, the rhythm of the waves, the moonlight, gave her an ease she had not felt in a long time, and she smiled when she woke to feel Therese’s body spooned into hers, skin against warm skin.  Therese did indeed have Carol in the shower after they rose that morning, and after a lazy breakfast they had a long, if chilly, walk along the beach in the late morning sunlight.  With no one around they were able to hold hands. Carol had yet to take off the charm bracelet, and now she loved the weight of it on her wrist, the chiming of the charms between their arms. 

As they walked they talked of Rindy’s upcoming visit and how they would spend whatever time they had with her; of Abby’s latest developments with the redhead; and of the new lawyer and her ideas for how Carol could gain greater custody of her daughter.

“Carol, did you say other…things had been destroyed?”

“Yes.”  Carol squeezed her hand, and they came to a stop and looked out over the water. “All the tapes, she was able to get those too, and had them incinerated. They’re gone.”  Carol could feel a shudder vibrate down into Therese’s hand in hers, as if something inside her had just shaken itself free.

“Oh god, I’m so glad.  I tried not to think about it much but it always made me feel…well I hated that they existed, that somebody listened to them…to…us.”

Carol took a long breath, remembering how badly she wanted to hurt Harge for tainting their first, precious night together. She brought Therese’s hand up to her lips and kissed it gently. “Oh darling, believe me, I know.  I’m just as glad as you.”  She slid her arm around Therese’s waist, and the younger woman did the same; they held each other this way as they watched the waves dance along the beach’s edge.  “I could have killed Harge,” Carol said softly. “Maybe the best part of this trip, this time, is that we are very much alone.  No goddamn ‘notions’ salesmen trying to sell us shortcuts to make their job easier. Jesus Christ.”  She leaned down to pick up a stone and hurled it into the waves.

“Good arm,” Therese giggled, with a light shove into Carol with her shoulder, lightening the moment.  She picked up a stone of her own, and suddenly they were both throwing stones into the surf, as hard and as far as they could, laughing, their coats flapping in the wind as they threw.

Carol found a rock as big as her fist. “Fucking Harge!” she cried, throwing it into the waves, and both women collapsed into each other’s arms in laughter until finally they turned, Carol tucking her arm into Therese’s, and began to make their way back to the bungalow.  “Oh darling, I needed that, thank you,” Carol panted, and they leaned into each other as they walked.

Back at the bungalow, they emptied their pockets of the seashells they had collected for Rindy onto the kitchen table. “How will I ever get this sand out of my pockets?” Carol asked as she tried to turn the pockets of her navy fur-lined coat wrong side out.  Therese just giggled and headed to re-light the fire as Carol gave up on her coat pockets and began to scrounge around for some lunch.  After eating, Therese got out her camera and coaxed Carol back outside for photographs – both of her, and of the beachscape. Carol even convinced Therese to hand over the camera so she could photograph her, leaning on the porch rail looking out over the ocean, dark hair waving in the wind.

Therese insisted on gin rummy after supper, so they had changed into their pajamas and settled onto the blankets and pillows they had piled onto the floor in front of the fire.  Carol poured two tumblers of whiskey for them, and the game was on, Therese celebrating her wins with a gleeful ferocity that Carol pretended to endure but secretly was completely undoing her.  She could feel it in her belly, in her thighs, with every gladiatorial grin on Therese’s face, and her heart beat just a little faster every time Therese’s eyes flashed. 

Finally Carol won a hand, and gave Therese a bemused look as she scrunched up her eyebrows in frustration and added up the score. “You take this game so seriously, darling,” she teased. 

“I do,” Therese responded.  “You’re still a long way from catching up, though,” she said with a sly grin as she set the pad and pencil to the side. “Don’t get too happy.”

“Oh I won’t,” Carol said, taking a sip of whiskey and dropping her voice.  “But I do think I should win a little something extra for beating you.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

“Oh yes,” Carol nodded and tilted her head back and to the left to bare her neck. “It’s such a rare occurrence, after all.”  She watched, smug, as Therese swallowed and leaned forward to run her nose up the side of Carol’s neck.  She could feel her lips hovering, breath warm on her skin, and smiled at the memory; a shiver ran up her spine as Therese finally kissed her, lightly, there, and just there. Just as Carol was about to congratulate herself for her very brilliant idea, however, Therese pulled back and hopped to her feet.

“We need music! How could we forget?” She scurried to the corner chest where the portable record player sat and pulled out a record.

Now it was Carol’s turn to swallow, and she shook her head at herself, amused as she swirled the whiskey in her glass. “Well darling,” she said as Therese settled herself back down on the floor, “shall we?”  Therese just quirked an eyebrow as she picked up the cards and began to shuffle.

  
~   ~   ~

  
Carol trembles as she pulls Therese closer to her. With the tears come memories: snow and sunlight and cameras, a hand perpetually in hers, an embrace by a lake, photographs by trees, laughter, wax paper-wrapped sandwiches and beer. Blankets tucked in and around, a plaid beret, whiskey-flavored lips, skin and curves and gasps. Hands on shoulders, sunrise-blue rooms, a ribbon-wrapped packet of letters, butter and salt and cream and red leather gloves and Carol feels the crack widening in her chest and she feels frantic, wanting, needing only that which she knows will break her wide open. 

Therese’s hands are in her hair now, she can feel the smaller body still quivering against her own in the aftermath of pleasure, mouths seeking each other.

“Carol,” Therese whispers breathless against her cheek. “ _God, Carol_ …”

“Therese, Therese,” Carol moans as they kiss and all she knows is her desperate desire for closeness with this woman in her arms, a closeness that will dissolve any boundaries between them. She presses her hips forward, seeking, and when Therese’s hand slides down the red satin to rest between her thighs, the sigh that pours forth from her feels to have come from a place so deep in her she does not even know its name.

Therese curls her fingers around the elastic waist of the pajama pants, but before moving any farther, she caresses Carol’s cheek with her other hand.  Carol struggles to focus her eyes when she realizes Therese is gazing at her, waiting; when she finally matches her gaze Therese dries away the tears with her thumb.

“Carol,” she breathes, “Carol, are you all right? Is this okay?” She shifts her hand in the waistband, lowering it just an inch, so it’s clear what she means.

Carol swallows, nods, presses her forehead against Therese’s.  “Please,” she murmurs, her voice rough, scrambling for words, “just…don’t let me go, don’t…”

“Never,” Therese promises, eyes immensely serious, “never, Carol.”

Another tear falls and Carol wipes it away quickly. “Whatever these are, they’re good tears, darling,” she manages to say, before moving her hand down to cover Therese’s at her waist, pulling downward to make her desire unmistakable.  They are the last words she clearly remembers as Therese pulls their bodies closer, closer again, chest against chest, bare legs now hooked around each other, and when Therese’s hand finds its home again in her center, she cries out and then breathes, deep, deeper, feeling the crack in her chest widen, broaden, she feels Therese’s breath hot on her collarbone, on her breast, she breathes again, deep, as if she could meet Therese’s hand with her own breath, and suddenly that is just how it feels, as she breathes deep and meets Therese,  her hand the pure energy of love rising up into her, up into the widening jagged space in her chest blossoming there unfurling outward into them both, into both their bodies Carol believes, believes in her marrow that vibrates inside Therese’s bones, and she shouts and clings, aware somewhere that Therese is uttering her name, or is Carol uttering Therese’s name, and does it matter and _just breathe, Carol, just breathe, just breathe_.

The tears keep falling, and Carol feels Therese’s arms wrap around her and pull her to her chest, now her turn to be rocked gently.

“Carol,” Therese whispers with such a reverence that Carol feels a distinct throb in her heart, “Carol, I love you. I love you. Just nod if you’re okay, it’s okay Carol, I’m here, just nod.”

Carol tightens her arms around Therese and nods. _So good, I’m so good_ , she thinks, still unable to put words together, so she kisses Therese’s shoulder instead, puzzled that there is still skin between them, surely they have melted into one?  As her quaking breath and body calm, the tears begin to still, and words begin to float to the surface.  _Joy, oh, and peace, and free…_

“Therese,” Carol murmurs, with a last deep shuddering breath, “dearest.”

Therese hums into her hair, and Carol marvels at the ease of their closeness as they shift together as their bodies begin to relax.

“Carol, I…what…” Therese is still trying to catch her breath. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

Carol nuzzles her face against Therese’s breast. “I’m fine, darling. So _very_ fine.”  And she is; whatever has just happened feels monumental and simple, all at once, and she has never felt so very _right_.

“I never” – Therese begins, and Carol can sense her thinking – “I mean, we never…you were so…”

“As were you, my love.”  She lingers a kiss, and another, across Therese’s collarbone before scooting upwards so that she can see her lover’s eyes. “I never, either.”  She gently tucks stray strands of hair behind Therese’s ear. “You were a wonder, in every way. Magnificent. A delight.” She smiles softly when she sees Therese blush. “My angel,” she whispers with awe.

Therese looks away briefly, then back at Carol. “But…you cried, what…why? Do you know?”

“Oh dearest, I assure you I’m fine.  The tears…I’m not sure really, only that they were good, very good, and I felt closer to you than I have ever felt. More...open, more free with you, than I ever have before.” Now she feels herself blushing. “Why do you suppose that is?”

Therese ponders for a moment.  “Maybe it’s what you said before,” she says slowly, working it out as she goes, “when we were walking, on the beach. That here we are really and truly alone. Not only no one following us but also we’re just…alone. No shared walls. No neighbors.  Just us. Maybe…for the first time?”

Carol considers her words as she watches the flames from the fire dance in reflection off the gold charms of her bracelet while she runs her fingers through Therese’s hair.  “I think that’s right,” she nods slowly, “I think that’s right. Alone. Truly free.”

Therese squeezes her tight. “I love this place, Carol, I really really love it.  I don’t even want to go back tomorrow!”

“I do too, darling, I do too.  I’ll talk to Jeanette, she did say we were welcome anytime.”

“She did?” Therese pauses, a thread of concern in her voice.  “Does she…Carol, does she know? About us?”

“I’ve never told her,” Carol assures, “I would never do that without you, without at least talking to you first.” Therese immediately relaxes. “She’s a smart woman though; I wouldn’t be surprised if she put two and two together. If she has, it doesn’t seem to matter to her -- she said on the phone ‘You and Therese have a good time.’”  Carol shakes her head, only just now realizing the significance of that statement.

Therese sighs. “I hope so. She seems nice, a good friend, and you’ve lost enough.”

Touched, Carol kisses Therese on the forehead. “But I have you, darling, I have you.”

Therese kisses her back. “And you have Abby. And Rindy, and you will have more and more of Rindy, I’m sure of it, with the new lawyer.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh yes, if she managed to get my letter back and destroy those tapes, I believe she’s capable of anything.”

“Well, that’s that…” Carol murmurs, and for a while they nuzzle close, sharing soft, tender kisses while the fire crackles in the background.

“Let’s come back here, soon,” Therese sighs between kisses.

“I’ll talk to Jeanette. ‘Anytime,’ she said. No charge or anything.”

They kiss again, longer now, until suddenly Therese bursts out into giggles.

Carol is amused, poking Therese in the arm and chuckling herself. “What’s with the fit?”

“’No charge,’” Therese responds between laughter.

“Yes?”

“Well that’s definitely a very attractive rate!”

They both burst into deep laughter, holding each other, whispering “Happy anniversary” between their giggles and kissing lightly, then more deeply, and without exactly realizing how or when, Therese has rolled Carol onto her back and sits above her, gazing down at her with such a flaming look of desire Carol’s breath catches in her throat.

“Again.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, you get to read the lost letter. :-)


	10. The Lost Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With deep thanks to Ligeria the Great!

December 25, 1952

  
Dear Carol ~

  
It’s just after midnight, the big clock downstairs chimed just as you left the room, so it’s Christmas now and my heart is pounding at the way you turned at the door and wished me a Merry Christmas, bare feet on the carpet and your eyes, your eyes, how do I describe the look in them, as you winked at me from the door and then turned to go to your room, alive with blue light and hidden grey all at the same time, she walks in beauty, how you looked at me, how you sat here beside me on the bed, that same look but so close, oh God so close, how you reached out and touched my cheek, I’m sure if I were to look in the mirror there would be a mark, a sear where you traced my skin because it feels like fire, your touch on my skin, what would that feel like other places, oh Carol how you settled there beside me, so close, our hips touching through thick quilting and I thought of tearing back the sheets, the blanket, too much space between us, but I held perfectly still even though all my muscles were resisting flinging themselves to you and I’m exhausted as though I’ve run a very long race.

I’m sleeping in your house. Down the hall from you.  You’re so close, do you feel that too, that the idea of us sleeping so close and yet separated by walls and doors is absurd? Because I can feel you from here. Like you are still sitting here next to me, I wish you were still sitting here next to me, hip against hip, Carol…

When you left I tried to read in my poetry book but it only reminded me of you and I am coming out of my skin.  
  
_She walks in beauty like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies_

How you came into this room, how you rose from the bed, how you turned at the door, I could watch you move forever, how smooth and elegant you move even when I know you must be feeling something, something like what I am feeling, the blue even the grey of your eyes can’t hide, the slightest tremor in your hand when you reached out to touch my cheek.

I have felt it all evening, ever since you picked me up, this tension between us, like a bow drawn taut with an arrow, a progression of chords without resolution, both of us waiting, watching, and how I loved poring over the maps with you, planning out our initial route, let’s just get to Chicago you said, and we’ll make it up from there, and the truth is I don’t care as long as I’m with you, the point in these first few days is to get far away fast, that’s what I  felt, and then from Chicago we will be free, how we giggled dreaming of an escape route to Canada, and I am still dizzy wondering how you chose me to go with you, why me, why me, why me…

Are you sure, you asked me after we’d sat for a while in silence on the porch, the good Irish whiskey almost glowing in the half-light, so quiet you were, so still, and I wondered if your fingers smelled of the brandied chestnuts.  I could have rested my head on your shoulder when I assured you I am, I am, but we both just kept gazing out the window into the night sky, even though I wanted to take your hand so you would know I’ve never been more sure of anything, Carol, anything at all…

I can hear the metallic scrape of your lighter again, you are so close, and the creak of the floor under your step. A regular creak, you must be pacing, moody again, grey more than blue, and I wonder as I lie here, what you would do if I went to you now and just took you in my arms, just that, just held you, whatever you are feeling. I know what it’s like to feel alone, Carol, to be alone, even in crowds, and I am right here, I am right here, I probably won’t even sleep for knowing you are so close, and my cheek, how it still burns from your touch and if I sleep I will miss it, the burn, and I don’t ever want to miss anything with you.

I love you, Carol, and I’m the arrow, perfectly still in this bed, notched into this taut bowstring, waiting for release, and I wonder when, when, oh Carol when…don’t you want to fly?

 _She walks in beauty, like the night_  
_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_  
_And all that’s best of dark and bright_  
_Meet in her aspect and her eyes;_  
_Thus mellowed to that tender light_  
_Which heaven to gaudy day denies._

  
Until the morning, Carol. I can hardly wait.

Merry Christmas.

Love, Therese

 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

 

Sunday, December 27th, 1953

  
Carol breathes a deep contented breath as she tucks the letter into its place in the stack and ties up the ribbon. She places the packet into the red lacquered box, closing it gently and letting her hand rest on the lid as a small smile plays about her lips and eyes.

Walking into the bedroom she grins at Therese tucked into bed with a book. “All unpacked, then?”

Therese looks up. “Yep. You?” she asks, patting the bed beside her.

Carol just nods, then reaches down, grasps the sheets and blanket in her hand, and in a swift motion pulls them all off the bed and onto the floor, the charms on her bracelet ringing with the sudden move.

Therese gasps and giggles. “What are you doing, Carol?”

Carol kneels on the bed and makes her way to Therese.  “Well,” she murmurs, voice low, “somebody doesn’t like sheets and blankets between us, so I thought I would take care of that.”

Therese swallows. “Thank you,” she manages to whisper as Carol begins to pull away her pajama top.

“Oh darling,” Carol hums into her ear, “we’ve only just begun.”

 

* * *

 


	11. Auld Lang Syne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I'm posting this, tomorrow is our 23rd anniversary. As I've said, I write for her. This chapter is no different.
> 
> As always, gratitude to Ligeria for her swift and thorough beta-ing, and encouraging and enthusiastic affirmations. I struggled a bit with this chapter, so her thumbs up meant the world.

Thursday, December 31, 1953

 

Three hours.

All they get is three hours.

Therese stands still in the hallway, the echo of the door latch carefully snapping shut lingering in her ears. Carol had wanted to slam it, Therese knew, but controlled herself with Rindy in her arms.  The little girl had grinned at Therese over her mother’s shoulder, waving with her cheerful “Goodbye, Aunt Tuh-rezz,” a gesture that warmed Therese’s heart even while it broke for Carol. A hundred emotions had registered across Carol’s face as she turned to pull the door closed and met Therese’s eyes – rage, pain, and a plea most clear among them – before fixing her face to kiss Rindy’s cheek.

Therese does not move. Unsure how Carol will be when she returns, she only knows she does not want her to have to look for her. So Therese stays right at the door, waiting.

The phone had rung while Carol was finishing cooking their supper, all Rindy’s favorites including yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Therese had been playing with Rindy on the living room floor, helping her add the new cars to the train set, but immediately cocked her ear at the quick double ring that signified the doorman was calling.  Carol had answered, wooden spoon in hand.

“Yes?...Robert, yes…”

Watching from over Rindy’s head, Therese saw the quick contortion flash across Carol’s face and knew then that something was wrong.

“He wasn’t supposed to be here for another 2 hours… ** _he_** was not even supposed to come.”

Therese bit her lip:  Harge. She shifted her focus back to Rindy and the train set to keep her distracted, but kept an ear open.

“I understand…no, no it’s not your fault Robert, thank you…Thank you, yes.  Tell him I will be down with her…in a few minutes, we’re not prepared, it will take a few minutes. Yes, thank you, Robert.”

Carol had hung up then; out of the corner of her eye Therese saw her walk slowly into the kitchen and make a sudden motion as if wanting to break the spoon across the counter, but holding back.  She instead leaned on the counter with both arms, head down, taking several deep breaths before straightening up, intently stepping to the stove to turn off the flame, then shifting her shoulders and smoothing her face into a semblance of calmness as she walked towards the living room.  Therese’s heart fluttered with nerves in her chest.

“Rindy, darling, your daddy is here.  Let’s get you packed back up, all right?”

Therese was amazed at the composure in Carol’s voice; she could only tell she was upset by the telltale stiffness in her spine and the way the thumb of her left hand was tucked into a fist.

“Ok, Mommy. But what about the cake? We haven’t had cake yet!” Rindy scrambled to her feet.

Carol smiled down at her daughter as Rindy began to tuck her new books into the red, black, and yellow plaid satchel Therese had given her for Christmas (“Aunt Tuh-rezz, it looks like your hat!” the girl had cried).  “Well, snowflake, we’ll just have to send it with you.  Surely…Therese, we have a box, don’t we?”  Carol’s eyes were briefly wild as they begged Therese to help her. 

Therese nodded as she stood up. “Yep, I know just what to do.”

All too soon all three were hugging and kissing at the front door, Rindy all bundled up in her coat, satchel strapped across her shoulder and cake box in hand.  “I’ll be coming back soon, right Mommy?  Aunt Tuh-rezz promised to play piano with me.”

“Of course, sweetheart, as soon as I can possibly manage it,” Carol responded with a kiss to her nose before picking her up in her arms and turning to the door. “Sooner. Soonest.” 

Only Therese sees the slight tremble in her hand as she turns the doorknob.

Three hours.

Therese waits.  She’s angry as hell at Harge: not only is he early, cutting off precious time with Rindy, but also the arrangement had been for Florence to pick up Rindy, so now Carol has to see the last person she was interested in seeing today, of all days.

Therese clenches and unclenches her hands, listening for the elevator bell, for the sound of heels on marble floors.  She will be right here, ready for whatever Carol needs.  She assumes Carol will try to deal with it on her own first, as she always does, and Therese is prepared for that.  She takes a deep breath, stretching her shoulders as she waits.

As soon as she hears the elevator doors open and the click of heels coming her way, Therese draws herself taller and takes a slight step back to avoid being hit by the door.  The latch clicks and the door swings into the hallway; Carol, looking down at her feet, draws up short when she realizes Therese is standing right there.  _She looks…desperate, furious,_ Therese observes as she holds Carol’s gaze with as much kindness as she can communicate.  _Her eyes…she’s been holding back crying._ _Fucking Harge…_

Carol draws a shaky breath and slowly closes the door, turning and leaning her forehead into it.  Therese takes a slow step towards her, unsure what Carol needs but unwilling to do nothing. She notes Carol’s deliberateness as she locks the knob, the deadbolt, and then emphatically draws the chain. _So much anger under that calm surface. I wish she’d just let go._ Therese lays a soft hand on her shoulder.

“Son of a bitch,” Carol mutters after a slight jump at Therese’s touch.

“Yes,” Therese agrees, with a subtle squeeze to Carol’s shoulder, and then tenderly embraces her from behind. She feels Carol’s walls up, the defenses even in her muscles, so her hold is light.  “I love you, Carol, I’m here,” she whispers. 

Carol trembles for a moment, sniffs, and then turns around into Therese’s arms. “Oh Therese,” she gasps, and begins to cry into Therese’s shoulder.

Therese, not entirely expecting this response but glad for it just the same, holds her for a moment in the hall, then begins to guide her to the living room.  “Come on, Carol, come sit down and I’ll hold you.”  She maneuvers them to the couch, stepping carefully around the train set and other toys still scattered across the floor. She settles them softly on the couch and draws Carol back into her arms, her head resting in her chest, close enough that Therese can leave a gentle kiss on the blonde hair.  Mindful of Carol’s well-practiced defenses, Therese wants to give her the space she needs while still showing her care, so her hold is still light – close enough to be present, but not stifling. Her heart aches for her beloved yet simultaneously gratified that Carol didn’t shut down this time.

Eventually Carol’s tears subside, and her breathing gradually returns to normal after a big shuddering sigh.  Therese kisses her head again and they shift together, resettle, hands entwined.  Therese purses her lips.  “I have two cigarettes hidden, just in case you need them.” She’s completely serious so she’s startled when Carol bursts into laughter, rocking them back and forth.

“Oh my darling,” she manages between chuckles, “no, no, that won’t be necessary. He’s a bastard but I won’t give in to that.”

Therese smiles at that, dimples deep.  “A drink then?”

Carol nods. “Sure.”

As Therese pours Bushmills into two tumblers, Carol stretches on the couch.  “Robert is a saint,” she says as Therese hands her the glass.  “Harge was drunk, he refused to let him on the phone or come up.”  She sips at her whiskey.  “I slipped him a twenty after Harge left.”

“Was he decent to you? Harge, I mean?” Therese takes a sip of her whiskey, then sets it on a side table and begins to tidy up the floor.

“Well…in front of Rindy, yes, but…”

Therese looks up as Carol goes silent.  “But what, Carol? You can tell me.”

Carol sighs.  “Well…Rindy told him you’d given her the satchel – she was so proud, you would have loved how she showed it off – anyway, after he got her in the car he said...some rather rude things about you…and us…and made a crude threat about talking to his lawyers again.  I told him he should be very careful about ever making threats against you, me, or us ever again.”

Therese shakes her head, eyes wide and astounded, and proud of Carol. “How did he take that?” 

“He laughed.  I just walked away. Robert, bless his heart, blocked the door until Harge got in the car and the driver closed the door.  Then he made sure I got on the elevator ok.”

Therese sits back on the couch.  “I don’t think you tipped him enough,” she smirks.

“I don’t either,” Carol replies with a wry smile.  “I’ll remedy that tomorrow.”

Therese ponders, chewing at her lip.  “I think he doesn’t know yet, that you have a new lawyer.  He doesn’t know you got the letter back, or that the tapes are destroyed.  Do you think he does?”

“I don’t think so, or he wouldn’t have pulled this stunt in violation of the agreement we have --  in writing _and_ signed in the presence of all the lawyers,” she emphasizes.  “No, I think he won’t know what hit him.  I’ll call Madeleine first thing Monday; this has to stop. I won’t put up with it anymore.”

“Good.” Therese nods, and they sit for a while in silence, holding hands in the stillness, Therese running a thumb over and around Carol’s knuckles.  After some time, Carol lifts Therese’s hand to her lips and kisses it.  “Would you like to walk down to Times Square in a bit, watch the ball drop at midnight?”

Therese knows her answer immediately.  “No, I’d much rather stay in with you, where we can be…well there are so many people, and I want to be able to kiss you properly – you know, at midnight.”

Therese is pleased to see the genuine smile break across Carol’s face at that, and she leans her cheek into the palm of the other woman’s hand as she reaches across with a gentle caress.  “My darling, sweetest heart,” Carol whispers.

Eating Rindy’s favorites for supper turns out to be just the remedy they need, as they giggle over the extra helpings of macaroni and cheese; they both agree Rindy might have gone slightly overboard with the cloves she poked into every square inch of the ham, though the brown sugar baste makes the meat so delicious they don’t much care.  After cleaning up the dishes they turn on Guy Lombardo; Carol opens all the curtains wide so they can watch the people below making their way to Times Square.

So much of their attention had been on preparing for Rindy that the two women had not talked much about how they would spend the rest of the evening once Rindy left.  But Therese is more than delighted when, as she stands at the window looking down Madison and up into the sky that seems to be flirting with snow, she feels Carol slide her arms around her from behind, clasping their hands together and swaying them slowly to the music.  Therese leans her head back into Carol’s shoulder, inhaling her scent deep into her lungs.

“Oh Carol,” she breathes.  The hum from Carol in response shimmers down her spine, and Therese is not sure she’s ever felt more content, even though -- “I’m so sorry about Harge. We were having such a good time, Carol, I’m so sorry.”

Carol tightens her embrace, and Therese releases her hands to slide them up Carol’s forearms, holding her closer.  “Oh darling,” Carol murmurs, still swaying, “thank you. I love that Rindy loves you, you are wonderful with her. As for the rest,” she shrugs, “we will fight, come Monday, and harder, and I refuse to let him ruin the rest of our evening.”  With that she dips her head and kisses Therese’s cheek.  “You did good, darling, at the door.”

Therese turns in Carol’s arms until her hands and head are resting on Carol’s chest.  She fingers the buttons on Carol’s blouse. “Did I?  I just…I just wanted you to know I was there for you.”  She feels pleased that she knows Carol well enough now, a year into their relationship, to better ride her moods and anticipate what might help.

“Yes, you were perfect,” Carol replies with a squeeze. “Present, waiting, not pushing, just…present.  Just what I needed.  The temptation to shut down was there but when I opened the door and saw you there, patient and kind and – well, clearly determined to be there, well, it helped, honestly.”

“I’m so glad. You’re not alone, Carol. I love you and we’re in this together.”

“Yes,” Carol says quietly. “Yes, yes we are.”

Although their feet don’t move, their bodies are still swaying to the music as they hold each other. Therese feels the fullness of the day, a serenity even with the abrupt arrival of Harge to take Rindy. Layered into the fullness are the memories of the year prior, in Waterloo – a mirror, green paint, red plaid, bare skin – and Therese inhales deeply as their hips shift in rhythm with the music. Her heart feels like it’s trembling.  “Carol,” she whispers, slipping fingers between blouse buttons to feel her skin, “how can a body feel so many things at once?”

Carol takes Therese’s face in her hands, tilts it up so they are gazing into each other’s eyes, and Therese knows that Carol knows what she means, without even explaining, when she leans down to give Therese the most delicate of kisses, and again. “I have something for you,” Carol says softly, with another kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

Therese closes her eyes, trying to endure the sudden absence of Carol; when she opens her eyes again Carol is coming back into the room with a small box tied in a deep green satin ribbon.  “For you, darling,” Carol says, handing her the box.

Therese smiles. “Carol, we weren’t” – she begins to protest, but Carol waves her off.

“I know, but I saw these and they were perfect. Perfect for today.” She grins. “So, open it!”

Therese’s dimples are deep as she unties the ribbon and opens the box. Sitting on black velvet are a pair of earrings: delicate gold angel wings, not an inch long, carefully etched and feathering down into a point. Between the hook and wing of each earring is a small shimmering diamond.  Therese is amazed, looking up into Carol’s eyes.  “Carol, I…I don’t know what to say, these are beautiful.”

Carol reaches out to Therese’s left ear. “May I?” she asks, and Therese nods. Carol gently removes the pearl stud and reaches for a golden wing.  “You know I don’t care for diamonds,” she continues, carefully sliding the hook through, “but I saw these, and the way the light glimmered in the little diamonds made me think of stars” – she takes the pearl from her right ear – “space” – and places the second earring. “They’re just right,” she whispers, tucking Therese’s hair behind her ears for a better look.  “Beautiful. Come see.”

Therese, breathless, happily lets Carol take her hand and lead her away. In moments they are standing in front of the dressing mirror in the bedroom, Therese looking at her reflection, Carol standing behind her, hands on her shoulders.  _They do look beautiful,_ Therese thinks _, and this moment is beautiful and…familiar, I feel…oh god_ – she reaches back and slides her hand up the back of Carol’s neck, entwining her fingers in her hair, caressing, unable to bear not feeling her skin.  “They’re beautiful, Carol, I don’t even have words.” 

Carol runs her fingers through Therese’s hair, pulling it back again over her ears. Therese thinks she will melt at the touch, and dares to look into Carol’s bemused eyes in the mirror.  “What?” she smirks, leaning into Carol and watching their reflection.

Carol chuckles. “I didn’t plan this, you know…this part anyway.”

“Which part?” Therese pretends she doesn’t know.

“You, me, a mirror…me playing with your hair again…”

Therese giggles and turns around to face Carol, burrowing both hands into her hair.  “I’m pretty sure you always know exactly what you’re doing.”

Carol just laughs, a bark of joy, and pulls Therese closer.  “I assure you that is not the case.”  She brushes her lips just under the younger woman’s nose.  “Is it midnight yet?” she teases.

Therese feels slightly dizzy.  “I don’t care,” she gasps, straining for Carol’s mouth, who leans back just out of reach. “I don’t care.” Frustrated with yearning, she pulls at Carol’s blouse until it’s untucked from her skirt. Suddenly she hates buttons, as her fingers tremble in the emotion of the moment and with a memory of what she wished she’d had the courage to do a year ago, and she simply grabs the bottom hem and pulls the blouse straight off over Carol’s head.

“Oh my,” Carol murmurs, and the expression in her eyes is Therese’s favorite:  dark with want, playful, and absolutely serious all at once. “How did you come to be naked under that robe, anyway?” Carol winks and Therese feels the blood flame in her body, making her clothes feel too tight, and she knows what she needs is skin, Carol’s skin against hers.

Just like a year ago.

She feels so warm she doesn’t know what to do with herself, other than begin to peel off her own clothes, frantic, as she moves towards Carol, shifting her backwards. “I…how could…I don’t know, Carol…I just…I knew but I didn’t know how to ask.”  Therese has not even realized they’ve moved across the room until Carol stumbles into the edge of the bed, and they stop; both women are breathless, half dressed. She sees the desire and care, the love, in Carol’s gaze and Therese feels wild around the edges and still there are too many clothes and still she has not actually touched Carol and now, now Carol is touching her hair, her face and Therese wonders how she can be so still when her heart is pounding so hard.

“Carol, I…” Therese swallows, hard, as Carol’s fingers trace her face. “I…wanted…so much, and…”

Carol’s hand cups her cheek and Therese leans into it.

“What did you want, darling?” Carol hums, and Therese sways at the depth of Carol’s voice.

“You, you, god, I wanted _you_.”   There are tears in her eyes for some inexplicable reason because _I’m happy, god I’m so happy, what is wrong with me_ , and she leans her forehead into Carol’s chest.  “You…and I don’t just mean” – she runs her hand up the fabric of Carol’s skirt, between her thighs – “I mean obviously that but more than that…you, all of you, and…I didn’t know what words, Carol, how to ask, so…I just hoped you’d notice.”

Carol gently lowers herself to sit on the edge of the bed, tossing her hair over her ear with a flick of her head; Therese shivers at the feel of her hands sliding down her arms and coming to rest at the small of her back.  Carol is smiling up at her, giving Therese a sense of calm when her emotions are so confusing.  “Oh, believe me when I tell you,” Carol assures, with the slightest raise of her eyebrow, “I noticed.  Do you think I wasn’t paying attention to every move you were making at that point?  I noticed.” 

Therese giggles at that, feeling Carol’s hands slip under the waistband of her skirt to undo the eye hooks and begin lowering the zipper. Soon the skirt is on the floor. “Carol, you got undressed in front of me for the first time on that trip, do you think I didn’t notice _that_?” 

Both women laugh as Therese leans forward and topples them both onto the bed; she reaches for Carol’s skirt, and there is a flurry of hands running over curves until _oh god finally_ , Therese breathes, they are naked, skin meeting skin, limbs entwined as they settle on their sides, facing each other.  Therese trails her fingers along the exquisite outlines of muscles in Carol’s back, while the other woman runs a thumb slowly back and forth along Therese’s jawline.

“Darling, are you all right?” Carol asks, “you seem…well, like you have a lot of emotions tonight. I love you, you know? We’re here. I’m here.”

Therese gives Carol a squeeze; the affection that fills her now makes her shift in closer, snuggle her face in between Carol’s breasts. She kisses the soft skin.  “This is my favorite place, you know? Here.” She gently rubs her head against Carol’s breastbone. “I think…there is something in the remembering, knowing now how lonely we both were, having words now for how much I wanted you, wanted to love you, remembering how every mile on that trip was a mile deeper in love with you...I wanted to see you, remember?” She runs her palm down the curve of Carol’s hip as Carol hums and nods.  “You’re magnificent and I wanted you to know, wanted you to believe it…” she swallows for courage… “to believe it in my eyes and my body and my loving you.”

Therese feels Carol’s arms tighten around her.  “My angel,” Carol whispers above her head, and Therese can feel her breath in her hair.

“But I never,” Therese continues, with another kiss to Carol’s breast, “I never expected…your skin, Carol, do you know?  When you touch me or we lay like this…like we did that night…it’s like your skin knows mine and I’m known and it’s…healing. I never expected that. That night was…oh my god, Carol…and I guess I’m remembering and feeling all that again and on top of that here we are, a year later, all we’ve been through, and I guess I feel all that and more…” She giggles lightly and shifts back up to be able to see Carol’s eyes.  “Yeah, I guess that’s a lot of emotion, huh?”

Therese is surprised to see tears in Carol’s eyes as the older woman shifts up onto her elbow.  “Carol, I’m sorry, I didn’t ” – Therese begins, reaching out to caress her face, but Carol catches her hand and kisses the palm before pressing it to her heart.

“Therese…” Carol closes her eyes, opening them again slowly with a deep breath. Therese knows now when Carol actually says her name that she is deeply moved, and maybe this is her favorite expression, actually: desire, yes, and serious, but now such an intense gaze of awe and wonder that leaves Therese overwhelmed that this glorious woman could love her so much, and she presses her fingers into Carol’s back with the feeling.

Carol lifts Therese’s hand and kisses it again.  “Therese, oh, if you knew how much I was needing you,” she murmurs, “…wanting…you, just like that, just as you…say. All that day in the car, how you held my hand, remember? Warming my hands. When you saw the scar. I felt…I would come undone if you didn’t…touch me like that…everywhere.”  She suddenly wraps her arms around Therese and pulls her closer, closer, hooking her knee over the younger woman’s legs.  “God…when you said you wanted to see me” – her hands begin roaming Therese’s body – “I wanted you to never, ever stop.”

“Never?” Therese gasps at the words and the urgency of Carol’s touch.

“Never.”  Carol takes Therese’s hand and kisses the palm and each finger, then slides it down between their hips, leaning back slightly to make room.

Therese’s eyes grow wide at the move; as she shifts to assure her position is just right, she is vaguely aware of the band on the radio coming from the living room, and she smiles lightly before kissing Carol full on the mouth, hard.  “What?” Carol asks into her mouth, shuddering as Therese makes a long stroke along her center. 

“Oh, “I’ve got you under my skin,” it’s perfect,” she responds, nibbling along Carol’s jawline.

Carol rocks her hips against Therese. “I think it’s the other way around, darling, but yes” – she shudders again – “god yes.”

The next day they will playfully disagree if “Auld Lang Syne” had played before or after Carol had rendered Therese senseless in their bed, but they both agree on this: ice-cold champagne in between long sessions of lovemaking is most refreshing, especially drunk off each other’s skin, wishing each other Happy New Year long past the chime of midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So grateful to those of you who posted notes to me in this long interim between posting...I've missed you!


	12. By Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's 1954, darlings.
> 
> with deep thanks to Ligeria, who patiently re-read til I got this right.

  
January 2, 1954

Carol is propped up on an elbow gazing down at Therese, who is curled on her side, left arm flung over Carol’s hip, breathing the slow, rhythmic breath of deep sleep.  Trying to ignore her own discomfort, Carol has been careful to tuck the red satin sheet around Therese’s shoulders so she won’t wake of cold. 

They are still at the Madison place, having left only for a leisurely mid-afternoon walk around Central Park with Abby and her redhead on New Year’s Day. Carol can tell from the slightest glow of light in the room that the hour is early yet, though shifting from night to dawn.  She really does not want to wake Therese, though she is finding it exceedingly difficult to keep her hands to herself.  Time feels suspended somehow, Carol thinks as she smiles gently at the woman snuggled up next to her, forehead almost-but-not-quite resting on her breast. Carol can feel the warmth of Therese’s breath on her skin, and she cannot help but run a finger along Therese’s hairline.

Tomorrow they will return to the Blue Place, and then Monday they are back to their work rhythm, though with all the days off, and all the glorious anniversaries celebrated in ways great and small, Carol does not quite remember what that rhythm was.  _These few weeks have been a wonder_ , she muses, _this woman is…a wonder_.  She glances over her shoulder at the dresser to catch a glimpse of the charm bracelet, seeming to gleam even in this barest darkness, and a tender contentment fills her.  _The bracelet, the gloves, the photographs…oh and her, her wondrous, beautiful self...so many gifts…_

Before Carol realizes it she has pulled Therese closer and kissed the top of her head.  She hates to wake her before the sun is even up, even though she knows she must, and so continues press kisses to her head and run her fingers through her rich brown hair until she feels the slightest stir under the sheets.

“Mmmfff,” Therese muffles into Carol’s chest.

“Darling,” Carol whispers into Therese’s hair.

Therese shifts to look up at her, slowly blinking her eyes open.  “Carol?” Her voice is raspy with sleep.  “It’s dark, you ok?” 

“I’m more than fine, dearest,” she responds with a light kiss, but arches slightly with a catch to her breath when Therese innocently drops her hand from Carol’s hip down to her lower belly.  “But I desperately need to use the bathroom, so you might not want to have your hand there just now.”

Therese snorts breathily as she moves her hand away. “Why didn’t you just get up and go?”

Carol licks her lips as she looks into Therese’s bleary but curious eyes, suddenly feeling uncertain.  “Well I…well I didn’t want you to wake up and…well, and not find me here. Even for a moment.” She takes a breath.  “Not today, dearest.  So I waited.  Well, at least until I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

 “Today?”  Therese asks, puzzled, and Carol feels slightly sheepish. She waits until she sees the sudden realization hit Therese as her eyes grow wide.  “Oh.”  Therese says it long, drawn out, in amazement. “Carol…” Therese reaches up to cradle Carol’s cheek in the palm of her hand, and Carol’s nerves settle with the touch. Yes, she was right to wait, it was important to say this, and she is moved by the shimmering love in Therese’s eyes. She squirms slightly. If only…

Therese grins and gives Carol a playful shove in the shoulder.   “Carol, go already, I want so badly to hold you, go on!” 

Carol laughs and kisses Therese quickly before rolling quickly out of bed and running to the bathroom.  The relief she feels as her bladder empties is immense.  She hears Therese laughing from the bedroom.

“Oh my God, you really did have to go!”

“Well I’ve been watching you for at least an hour,” Carol calls back, and they both laugh together.  Carol finishes up and washes her hands before sauntering back into the bedroom, a flirty smile on her face.  Therese is up on her elbow, watching her. 

“Even in this light you are so beautiful, Carol. Come back to bed.”  She lifts the red satin and Carol happily slides under it, skootching her way over until she can wrap her legs around Therese’s, and they embrace tightly. Carol pulls back gently to look Therese in the eyes; she can’t quite read the expression there, and breathes into the space between them.

“Are you all right? Should I...should I have not…”

“No, no,” Therese shakes her head, “it’s just...of all the things…”

Carol sees the scrim of a shadow pass over the younger woman’s face, and she feels a tremor of nerves, wondering if she’s said the wrong thing. “Therese, I’m sorry, if you didn’t want to be reminded” --

Therese places two fingers over Carol’s mouth until she stills, then rests it on her neck, slowly running a thumb along her jawline. “Carol, that’s not what I mean. I” --  she blinks and swallows -- “You remembered. Of all that we’ve shared over the last few weeks, that you would remember this too...it may mean the most of all. Of everything.”

With a deep inhale of relief, Carol smiles tenderly at Therese. “These weeks have felt...like a lifetime we’ve lived together, you know?  And...there’s been so much to celebrate, our firsts, our anniversaries.  Today, though, feels more like...well, not a memory to celebrate, really, but...I suppose, to heal. I want you to know I know that.  So...I didn’t want you to wake without me.  Or be without me at all, today, really.”

Therese cocks her head. “Is that why you put Abby off when she suggested brunch for today?”

Carol nods with a shy grin. “Yes. I want it just to be you and I today, is that ok?”

Therese snuggles deeper into their embrace. “Oh, Carol, that is more than ok.”  She presses her lips to Carol’s collarbone. “Honestly, that you would be so thoughtful...I...I feel so touched, it means so much to me.” She rubs her head against Carol’s chest.  “Healing. Yes. For us both, you know.”

Carol senses Therese’s slender body grow still against her, but it is not, she recognizes with concern, the stillness of sleep. She tries to catch her eye but Therese has tucked her chin down.  “Therese?”

There is a pause before Therese speaks, a quiet distance in her voice.  “You know…I never thought…when Abby said you weren’t coming back, to the Drake?...It never occurred to me that she just meant…that day. I just assumed…”

“Oh Therese” – Carol feels at a sudden loss as Therese shifts out of her arms to roll onto her back and stare at the ceiling.  Wanting to be able to see her, and to be sure she knows she is paying attention, Carol sits up beside her, cross legged, close but careful not to crowd.  She leaves a hand near Therese’s, and is relieved when Therese takes it, absently running a thumb along the knuckles.

“I don’t remember my father very well, I was little when he died, you know…he was kind, I thought his paintings were wonderful…but it’s hard to remember now.”

Carol nods and squeezes Therese’s hand.  She’s not sure where this is going but Therese rarely speaks of her family, so this moment is significant; Carol knows not to press with questions.

“I miss him though, sometimes.”  Therese blinks slowly at the ceiling.  “I wonder, sometimes, if he hadn’t died, would…things…have been different.”  Her eyes skitter across Carol’s face and then back up.  “If…she wouldn’t have left me.”

_There it is_ , Carol recognizes with an ache for her beloved, and she squeezes her hand again as Therese sighs.

“Carol,” Therese begins, and then looks at her, “do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

Carol immediately shifts forward and cups Therese’s cheek. “No, darling, no, there is nothing wrong with you,” she insists, but Therese shakes her head in Carol’s hand.

“Then why? Why did she just leave? She said she traveled too much but she had babies again that went everywhere with her -- _babies,_ Carol, so it must have been me, maybe I wasn’t worth staying for, maybe there is something wrong with me, maybe…”

Carol has not heard the hardness that is in Therese’s voice before; she slides an arm under her and pulls her up into her lap, trying to soothe her with caresses to her hair. “No, my dearest heart, Therese, you are worth everything, there was nothing wrong with you, _is_ nothing wrong with you,” she whispers as Therese slides her arms around her waist and pulls tight.  

“I know you had to go,” Therese mutters against her chest, “I just…there it was again, I had done something wrong, something, and you were gone…she was gone…all my fault…”

“Not your fault, my love, not ever your fault…”

“…Abby seemed so mad…”

“Abby’s protectiveness gets the better of her…but she also told me how much pain you were in, and for that I am so, so sorry.” Carol gently rocks Therese until she feels her body start to soften in her arms.  “I’m so very sorry. For everything. Even for your mother.  You deserve…all good things, my darling, and there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing.”  She pauses.  “There is very much something wrong with a world where mothers abandon their children for no good reason and violent ex-husbands have their former spouses spied upon.  We’re marked by that, there’s no denying it.  But there is nothing” – she kisses the top of Therese’s head – “ _nothing_ wrong with you.”

With a sniffle Therese stretches her neck and lays her head back on Carol’s shoulder with a long sigh.

“Come, darling,” Carol encourages as she begins to unfold her legs and extend her body to lay back down.  “Come here.” As she lowers to back to the bed she pulls Therese down to her chest.  The two women shift around until they are comfortable, finally ending up on their sides facing each other once again, arms across each other’s hips.  Carol notices that Therese’s eyes are clearer, though still with an ache around the edge.  She takes a deep breath.

“These weeks,” she says on the exhale, “we have celebrated many important moments, memories…good moments, good memories.  Happy memories.”

Therese just nods, watching her.

“Maybe today…is not a…happy memory,” Carol continues.  “But it’s no less important, and I remember it too.  I had to go, yes, but I should never have left you like that, that was _my_ mistake; you are worth so much more than that, Therese, and I always want you to know it. Always.”

Therese nods again, slowly, and Carol notes the precise moment the spark returns to her green eyes, followed by the lightest of smiles.

“You folded my pajamas.”

“Mmm?”

“At the Drake, before you…left, you folded my pajamas.”

Carol smiles shyly at the memory.  “Oh, yes, that’s right. I did.”

“Why?”

“Oh, well I thought…it was one thing I could do to show you…this wasn’t just a…ah, that you meant something to me. I didn’t want you to wake up to my stuff gone and your pajamas just scattered, like…” Carol swallows, refocuses. “You deserved the care to have your pajamas folded for you. It was the least I could do, fold your sweet, polka-dot pajamas that I adore.”

Therese’s smile brightens at that.  “Thank you for that, Carol,” she murmurs.  “Thank you for telling me that.”

Carol feels a tender affection wash over her and reaches for Therese. “I may have also smelled and kissed them, oh darling, how I did not want to leave you.”

The two women embrace; Therese buries her face in Carol’s neck and inhales deeply.  They stay clasped together, breathing each other in, for a long while, until the rhythm starts to even out and slow.

Carol takes Therese’s face in her hands and covers her forehead, cheeks, and lips with light kisses.  “Go back to sleep, dearest,” she murmurs between kisses, “I will be right here when you wake up. Right here. By your side. Always.”

“Carol, you’re magnificent, and I love you.” Therese pulls her even closer. “But I’m not interested in sleeping right now.”  Their kiss is long as Therese glides a hand down Carol’s breast, running a thumb across the nipple before continuing along the line of curve down her ribcage and over her hip, where she presses her nails into the soft flesh.  

“Funny,” Carol breathes with a shiver, “I’m not sleepy either at the moment.”

The room is filled with the gentle light of winter’s sunrise when they finally fall back asleep, limbs entangled and bodies cooling.  As they drift off, Carol pulls the blanket up around them and whispers into Therese’s ear.

“Right here. Always.”

 

* * *


	13. The State of the Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> xoxo
> 
> and as always with deep gratitude for Ligeria's keen eyes.

January 21, 1954

 

The silence is strange to Carol’s ears.

Most often when she comes to the Madison Place she’s either running in quickly to grab something and off again, or with Therese and even, when she’s lucky – _very very lucky_ , she thinks with a melancholy drag on a cigarette – with Rindy.  Almost always, there’s the sound of someone else in the apartment with her:  dishes being washed, Rindy’s giggle, Therese’s humming.  The radio or the record player always going.  Even the soft flip of book pages or a spoon being rested on a saucer.

The silence is strange. Unsettling. Carol stands absently staring out the window, not seeing the sheen of rain on the street below. Her hand trembles as it brings the cigarette back to her mouth; she doesn’t entirely understand how she got here, and the silence only adds to the unidentifiable distress she feels, an emptiness, a cold echoing hollowness that feels…

 _Oh_.

 _Damn_.

Carol leans her head against the window.  The cool glass feels only the slightest bit soothing.  _Well, you’ve done it this time.  What’s the matter with me? I promised I wouldn’t do this, goddammit, Carol.  You’ve just made things worse._   She wants a whiskey but hasn’t the energy to move across the room, so she lights another cigarette. 

She had left Therese at the Blue Place not in a rage, exactly, but suddenly overwhelmed with an inability to…cope.  She made the taxi drop her blocks away to try to walk off the emotion, but when that only increased her agitation she damned the rain and ducked into the corner store for cigarettes.  She had hoped the quiet in the apartment would calm her.

But the silence has only made her feel worse, has only amplified the confusion in her head.  _It reminds me of Ridgewood.  Goddamn._

Her body feels like it’s churning under the skin, a sensation that she does not like, that makes her anxious. She shifts her shoulders trying to shake it off.

She does not know how long she has been standing there, smoking, lost in a sadness she cannot name, when she hears the key in the door.  Her ears tuned to the silence, the sound of the door snapping closed makes her jump – _but not slammed_ , she breathes, _not slammed_.  Nevertheless she finds she cannot turn around, even as the sound of Therese’s footsteps cross the wood of the entryway, then muffle on the carpet, then stop.

“What the hell, Carol.”

Carol’s eyes shift left and right as she stares out the window. Therese’s voice is soft, not accusing, but Carol’s shame has silenced her. She pulls the cigarette smoke deep into her lungs, and coughs.   She can hear Therese move again, hears her pick the telephone receiver off the table and press the switch quickly; then comes the clicking whirr of the dial. 

“Hi, yes, she’s here…I think so. She’d taken the phone off the hook… No, I just got here, I’ll let you know.  Thanks, Abby.”   The receiver clatters softly back onto the cradle.

“You called Abby.” Carol’s tone is flat; she doesn’t know whether to be amused or angry, but decides it doesn’t matter, really. She’s the one in trouble here.

“I did,” Therese responds, still not moving.  “I tried calling here over and over, and when you didn’t answer I called her.  I thought maybe you might’ve gone there.  I was” –

“Angry? You’re angry.”

“Carol, I was worried. I _am_ worried. What are you doing here? Why did you take the phone off the hook?”

Carol sighs, knowing she’s caught but feigning annoyance, and waves her hand with the cigarette.  “I just…I needed some quiet.”

There is a brief pause, and Carol knows now she is itching for a fight, just to get this shaking anxiousness out, just to confirm how undeserving she is of this woman’s care.  

_Dammit_.

Lost in her thoughts Carol has not realized Therese has moved next to her until she gently lifts Carol’s wrist in her palm and takes her cigarette.  She takes a short drag off it before crushing it in the ashtray.  “You’ve definitely had more than two of those,” she observes, taking a small step back and letting Carol’s wrist drop. 

Carol doesn't know now what to do with her hands, so she crosses her arms and keeps staring out the window.  “You're angry with me,” she says again, and she can feel Therese’s eyeroll just in the shift of her breath behind her. She doesn’t know why she wants to provoke her, to make her say it, but she does.

“Yes, Carol, I’m angry.” There’s an edge of frustration in her voice. “Angry and worried. Let's deal with the worried first, though, because I know you are not ok, and I want to be clear what to be mad at you about.  What's going on? Why did you just walk out like that?”

Carol rubs the back of her neck and closes her eyes. “Why…”  Her head hurts, and the memories are like a dull ache, hard to call up even though it wasn’t two hours ago that she left.

They had both come home from work and had a leisurely supper. Everything was fine until Therese had said she wanted to watch the news…something about Eisenhower’s budget being delivered to Congress, something about atomic weapons and Communism…there had been talk at the Times and she wanted to see what the news programs had to say.  But Carol didn’t want to; she had felt a sudden defensiveness, a refusal that she had no reason or words for.

“I don’t want to, Therese.”

Therese had already gone into the living room and switched on the small TV set. “Don’t you want to hear?” She adjusted the antenna.  “I’m worried about how he’s using Communism as an excuse to build more atomic bombs, those things scare me. Don’t they scare you?”

“I don’t…I don’t want to. I just don’t, turn it off.”  Carol was confused by her own response and pressed herself back against the living room wall.  She had the distinct feeling she was trying to escape.

“Well, just go in the bedroom and read if you don’t want to watch it, Carol, that’s fine.”

Carol knew Therese’s request – and tone – were reasonable but she felt more overwhelmed by the moment.  “Your place is so small,” she snapped, “I’ll still be able to hear it, and I don’t want to. Just ask your friends at the paper tomorrow.”

There was a long, cold pause.

“ _My_ place.”

Carol swallowed, suddenly panicked. This was not how this was supposed to go at all…but what was this? Why did she feel like this, lost and grasping?  “Therese, I…”

“ _My_ place, _my small place_. I see.”  She clicked off the TV and turned and faced Carol with arms crossed tight across her chest.  “There.”  She shrugged.  “Happy?”

Carol’s fingers pulled at her own elbows.  _What is happening? How can this be happening?_ “Therese, I’m sorry, I…” 

Therese looked at the ceiling and back at Carol. “No, Carol, you got what you wanted. And thanks for letting me know how you really feel about _my place_.  Good to know.”

 _I have fucked this up beyond belief,_ Carol thought, pressing herself into the wall again. “Therese, please–”

But Therese had turned on her heel and gone into the kitchen, where she began washing the dishes in the sink with vigor. 

Carol didn’t know what to do. She felt breathless and confused at her own behavior, and with a soreness in her shoulders she couldn’t shake off.  She felt like she was suffocating, her mind awhirl with ache and echo, and somewhere, her own anger at being misunderstood, though she did not even understand herself.  “Fine, Therese, fine, watch what you want,” she called into the kitchen as she rushed to the bedroom and grabbed her coat and bag.  “I’ll leave you to it, fine.”

Therese met her in the entryway, agitatedly drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Carol, what are you doing?”

Carol felt a wildness in her eyes as she pulled a scarf over her hair, trying not to look at Therese but still glimpsing the confusion and anger and, yes, even fear cross her face.  “I…I just…I don’t know, Therese, I don’t know.”

And she had left.

Therese touches her wrist again.  “Carol? Where are you?” 

Carol flinches at the contact, a memory flashing through her senses:  Harge’s silencing hand pressing down on her own, shutting off her voice, her thoughts, while his parents smirked and Eisenhower droned on the background.

Eisenhower.  _Oh.  Damn._   Carol rubs her eyes with her left hand; the soft chiming of the charm bracelet causes her to open her eyes. As she lowers her hands, she fingers each of the charms as if they were prayer beads, a talisman to connect her to the present.

“I don't want to watch State of the Union,” she sighs, knowing she must sound ridiculous.

“Carol, that was…two weeks ago.  Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Still not looking at Therese, Carol keeps turning each charm under her fingers. _Train, piano, record, car_ … “I…I don’t think…” Her body is making the connections in the swirl of memories, but she doesn’t want to feel it, it’s too much, she thinks, she’s too much, and she finally turns to Therese.  “Can’t we just…can’t it just still be December,” she pleads, “can’t we just go back to the beach house, just the two of us, and…no news, no Eisenhower to remind me…”

Therese reaches a hand out to her.  “Remind you of what, Carol?”

When she runs her hand over Carol’s aching shoulder and _oh God that spot right there_ on her right shoulder blade, Carol feels herself, her defenses crumble from the inside out, though she barely moves.  Sniffling her tears, she pulls back slightly to look at Therese.  “May we sit down? I…I’m so tired, and I’m not making sense but I want to talk this out, I do.”

Therese takes her hand; they walk to the couch and settled down next to each other, Therese cross-legged and facing Carol, Carol with her knees tucked under her and angled slightly towards the younger woman.  She feels ashamed, and shy, and cannot bring herself to face her directly.  Her thoughts are still strange to her, thick and distorted, like a piano trying to sound underwater.  She does not realize Therese has moved until she feels an afghan being draped over her shoulders, and looks up to see the younger woman pulling the knitted warmth around her.

“You’re shivering,” Therese answers the question in Carol’s eyes.

“Am I?”  Carol pulls the edges of the blanket together tighter around her chest.  “Thank you.”

Therese settles back down beside her, and Carol drops her hands back into her lap.  _Record, car, camera, cricket…cricket…Rindy_.  Now she does feel herself shiver.  Her sigh is deep, and long.

“All those anniversaries,” Carol begins, slowly, as if having to pull each thought out on a strand, “and there is nothing now I want to celebrate, nothing, for...a long time.  A year ago…every day now a reminder of that…emptiness…when I didn’t have her…or you.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head.  She can feel how still Therese is beside her, waiting, wary. 

“I didn’t know,” she continues, “when we watched the State of the Union, I didn’t… realize… that I didn’t want to watch it. Only after, I started to feel a bit…lost, somehow…melancholy.  I didn’t know why, Therese, until just now.  I just felt” – her hand taps at her knee, searching for words – “I don’t know, lost. Like a…headache, you know? That wouldn’t go away.”  She chances a quick glance at Therese. “You probably didn’t notice–”

“I noticed.” 

“You did?”

Therese flicks at a burr of wool on her skirt before giving Carol a serious look.  “You always forget, I read every shift of mood you have, Carol.  I noticed. You got…quieter, not all closed up like today but quieter. Like you went…inside yourself.”

“Oh.  I see.”  Carol casts her eyes down.  “I’m sorry.”  _Piano, record, car, camera_ … “I don’t…”  She swallows, and starts again.  “A year ago, inauguration day was the first time I saw Rindy since Harge took her from me before Christmas.”  There is a sharp intake of breath from Therese.  “I remember it was that day because they had the TV on while we ate lunch, he was giving his speech.”

“That was yesterday,” Therese notes, “I mean a year ago, a year ago yesterday.”

“Yes.  And I think…I don’t entirely understand it myself but I think watching the speech two weeks ago somehow…especially after so much wonderful celebration we had, the sudden shift into January and no more… _good_ anniversaries…somehow…it’s like it set something off in me.  The memories of that time, the feelings…they began seeping back in.  Except…I didn’t really realize it was happening, until just now.  With how…empty this place feels, without you…and when…you…touched me.”

"When I…” Therese looks to the window where they had been standing and back to Carol. “You flinched, I felt it.  Carol, I’m--”

“No.” Carol raises a hand to stop Therese’s apology, and looks at her fully for the first time.  “It is not your fault.  All right?  It’s not.”  She searches the other woman’s face for understanding, and when she finds it, she decides to take a risk.  “Therese?  I know…I know you are angry with me, but could you…would you just…hold my hand? Please? I…I need to feel you, feel...connected to you…Unless…”

Relief unravels down Carol’s spine when Therese shifts closer and not only takes her hand, but also slides her arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer.  Carol rests her head on Therese’s shoulder and sniffles back her tears. 

“You have to talk to me, Carol.”

“I know, darling, I know.  But I didn’t realize, didn’t understand what was happening. I’m not sure I understand it now.”

Therese reflects for a moment.  “It makes a kind of sense to me. That you would remember, or that this stuff would bring up those memories.”

“Does it?”

“Yes.  Add to that that you’re going to court for Rindy again in a month or so, and it does have a…familiar sort of feeling to it.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that.”  Carol goes silent for a moment.  “Did I tell you Harge won’t let me talk to her now?”

“What?  No!  Carol, what happened?”

“His lawyer told him about Madeleine, about the tapes, and he got mad.  When I tried to call last week, he just said ‘see you in court’ and hung up on me.”

“Oh Carol.  Did you tell Madeleine?”

“I did.  She said to be patient, she’s sending some documents over next week that should help.”

Therese shakes her head. “Carol, why didn’t you tell me?”

Carol pinches the bridge of her nose.  “I…I’m…ashamed, I guess.  You know.  It’s hard to shake, that feeling that I’m the wrong one.”

“Well you’re not.”  Therese tightens her arm around Carol’s shoulder.  “Tell me more about last year.  I want to understand.  If that’s ok, if it’s not too hard.”

Carol inhales deeply and lets her breath out slowly.  “You have to understand, I thought they would be fair.  I did everything they told me to, I gave up everything. I wouldn’t see you, I barely saw Abby, I saw the psychotherapist, I agreed to their goddamn lunches – just to be able to see my daughter.”  Carol feels suddenly riled up.  “And they tapped my phone anyway. Treated me like a…pitiful… _child_ who had to be watched. And still they wouldn’t let me see her.  Until finally that lunch, on inauguration day? It was a quiet humiliation, I was silenced, I wasn’t even allowed to serve my own goddam plate, all this… _playacting_ ,” she nearly spits, “as if this was all _normal_. All _fine_.  And then they brought her late, so instead of getting spend 4 hours with her, I only got an hour and half.”

Therese sputters a sarcastic laugh. “That sounds familiar.”

“And they wouldn’t leave me alone with her for a minute.  Harge’s mother, I _swear_.”  Carol pauses to catch her breath.  “I gave up everything, and it didn’t make a damn bit of difference.”

“They weren’t interested in playing fair, Carol. It sounds like they wanted to punish you.”

“I thought I could fight on their terms. But I couldn’t. I saw Rindy just once more.  Those months were…I felt so lost, in a fog…I don’t like feeling that way again.  It’s not your fault, please know that.  I don’t understand why this happened, I’m so sorry, Therese, it was like…being carried away by a current.”

For a moment Therese is silent; Carol has begun to fidget anxiously with her hands when Therese finally speaks.  “You said – on the 2nd, remember? You said we are marked by what has happened to us.  We’ve talked about this before, it doesn’t just go away, what happened to us. The hurt, the pain.  It makes sense to me, that you would remember last year and how you felt…remember and, I guess, feel it all again.  Like how we feel all the good stuff again, remembering.”

Carol nods against Therese’s shoulder, grateful for the understanding.

“I guess…how are you going to remember that now is not then?” Therese asks. “The good anniversaries, we remember them and it…enhances what is good now. It was good then and good now.  That’s different than last January…February, all the way to April.  I remember too, how…scraped out and alone I felt...and I tell myself it’s different now.  You’re here, we are here, it’s good now.  You are fighting on your own terms now.”  She shrugs.  “Now isn’t then.”

“How did you get so wise?” Carol wonders with a squeeze to Therese’s hand.

Therese shifts so Carol can see her eyes, and takes both her hands in her own.  “But you have to talk to me, Carol.  You can’t do this again, running out on me like that.  It scared me, and…well, it hurt.”

The loss of Therese’s arm around her leaves Carol feeling insecure, and she gazes down at the floor.  “It’s unforgivable,” she murmurs, “I understand.”  Therese releases her hands at that.  Carol doesn’t know how to fix this, and she’s prepared for an interminable silence, or for Therese simply to agree, and leave her. So she’s surprised when one of Therese’s hands slips gently along her jawbone and turns her head towards her.

“Carol, look at me.”

Though Carol can hardly stand it, knowing she is being seen this evening as clearly as anyone has ever seen her, she holds Therese’s gaze, and its glimmer of hope.

“Carol,” Therese begins, “it’s not unforgivable. I understand now why you were overwhelmed.  All I am asking is that you not run away from me when that happens.  Even if it’s hard, even if you don’t understand what’s happening to you, can you trust me enough to stay?”

Carol nods and wipes at her eyes with the back of her arm, knowing there is no more mascara left to smear.  “I’ll try, I promise I’ll try,” she whispers through the tears.

Therese pulls a handkerchief out of her cardigan pocket and hands it to Carol. “Please. Carol, I love you, I’ll be with you in it when it’s hard, I just need a clue when you’re feeling this way, when the…old stuff starts coming back. Then maybe I can…I don’t know, _hear_ you better when things happen like today.  I’m sure my sarcasm didn’t help.”

“I insulted the apartment, Therese,” Carol admits, chagrined. “You had every right to be sarcastic.  I’m so sorry, god, I feel like I’ve fucked everything up.  How can you stand me?”

“Carol, enough.  You have to stop beating yourself up, ok?” Therese pulls her back into her arms and rocks her slowly.  “I admit, that bit about the apartment stung.  I hope that’s not what you really think.”

“No, no no, you know I love it there with you, together there, ours.  I lost my temper and I’m so sorry I hurt you, Therese.”  She tightens her arms around her to emphasize her apology.  “I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you, Carol, I do.  I think if we had both understood what was happening we never would have gotten to that point.  Hopefully we can learn from this, don’t you think?”

Carol nods into Therese’s chest.  “Darling, I just feel awful. I hate feeling this way and I hate hurting you.”

“It’s not like you chose this, Carol, like you woke up today and decided to be a jerk. It’s a deep wound that got bumped.  But now we know.  I’m glad we know, actually, so we can make better mistakes next time.”

Carol chuckles for the first time in hours.  “Better mistakes.  I like that.  You are too good to me,” she sighs, snuggling closer into Therese’s shoulder.  The unease is finally ebbing, though she feels wrung out from all the emotion.

“And anyway,” Therese goes on, “that apartment really _is_ small. It’s true, you can’t really hide in there. There’s not even any doors except that one between the bedroom and hall.  As if that helps!”  she giggles.

They are silent for a while, holding each other and watching the rain trickle down the window glass.  Eventually Carol stifles a yawn.  “Darling, I’m spent.”

They unfold themselves from each other and stand. Only when they begin to walk do they realize they’ve started off in different directions.

“Carol, aren’t you coming to bed?”

Carol scans the living room before turning to Therese.  “No – I mean, not here, I want to…well, I want to go home.” She meant what she said but the expression on Therese’s face – a flash of light and a smile in her eyes – tells her that she has said exactly the right thing.

In less than an hour they are back at the Blue Place, teeth brushed and bundled into the bed.  Therese’s skin against hers is the assurance she has needed; she still feels an echo of ache and pulls Therese closer, kissing her eyes and cheeks and chin before reaching her mouth.  When the tears come, she lets them, while Therese kisses her gently and incessantly, offering soothing words and caresses between kisses. 

“Therese, darling,” – Carol shudders with a sob.

“It’s all right, Carol, I’m here, you’re ok…”

“How could I not love it here?”  She swallows hard, trying to calm herself, to catch her breath, to say what needs saying.  “Here…with you…this is…really…where we’ve made our life…together.  Where...most…I’ve gotten to know you, how…amazing, wonderful you are.  And you’ve…gotten to know me…for better or for worse,” she chuckles lightly.

“Definitely better, definitely,” Therese affirms with a kiss to Carol’s shoulder.

“Ours.”

“Yes.”

Carol begins to still at last.  Part of her wishes she had the energy to offer Therese her gratitude with her hands, her hips, her tongue, but she’s beyond exhausted from the day – perhaps even these last couple of weeks.  All she can muster is to crook a leg behind Therese’s knees and pull her even closer, skin touching skin as much as possible, and Therese’s head nuzzled into her chest.  She kisses Therese’s hair.  “I love you so much, my dearest, darling heart.”

“I love you too, Carol, so much.”  Her arms tighten briefly around Carol’s waist.

As Carol drifts off, she notices the sounds: rain pinging on the windows, footsteps creaking somewhere in the building, a distant car door, the icebox cycling.  And most of all, Therese’s slow, rhythmic breathing as she eases into sleep.  A music most familiar.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cannot take credit for the "better mistakes next time" line, a friend gifted that to me and wow, it's helpful. :-)
> 
> who would've thought that fic-writing would lead one to read Eisenhower's budget address? The things we do for love. :-)
> 
> So, I think often about what was not known in the early/mid 1950s about the cycle of domestic violence and the impacts of abuse and trauma and PTSD (regardless of their source), things like that. How did people understand what happened to them and how that trauma continued to live in their minds and their bodies even after one found safety? So, that's kind of what this chapter is about...a different kind of "anniversary," if you will. With honor and love for all of us who are still healing. xo


	14. The State of the Union, Addendum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning this chapter at all, but one thinks about things and well...
> 
> follows immediately after the previous chapter.

January 21-22, 1954

 

But Carol awakes with a start, eyes quickly blinking open in the dark. Something feels off, here in these pre-dawn hours.  They had fallen asleep entwined, but now her arms are empty and there is a cool emptiness under the covers.  Carol takes all this in at the same moment she realizes why:  Therese is sitting up in the bed, leaning against the headboard with knees drawn up to her chest, staring into the darkness.

“Therese, sweetheart?” Carol murmurs as she shuffles up into a sitting position.  “What’s wrong?”  She reaches out to take Therese’s hand, kissing the palm before holding it in her lap.

“Aren’t you scared, Carol?” Therese whispers.

“Scared? Whatever of, darling? We’re here, we’re ok, right?”

Therese nods slowly. “It’s not that, it’s…it’s these atomic bombs. Doesn’t it scare you? We keep building more and more…”  Her voice is soft and tremulous.  “I’ve seen the pictures at the Times of what happens, the ones they can’t print, it’s horrifying…if we don’t all just die instantly…” 

Carol feels a shudder of emotion in her chest that she can’t quite name, but it causes her to pull Therese closer to her, wrapping her arms around her.  “Isn’t the idea of having so many,” she ponders, “is so that nobody attacks us?”  She says it, but it doesn’t sit right in her belly.

“But the Soviets keep building them too, and who’s to say somebody, us **_or_** them, wouldn’t be crazy enough to start using them?  We could all die, just like that, and we’d never know. No warning.  Just…gone.”  Therese shivers.  “Is this any way to live, Carol, knowing the world could end tomorrow?”

Unsure what to say, Carol snuggles into Therese even closer.  “You think about these things?”

“Yes, Carol, I do.”  Therese wipes her nose with the back of her arm. “Don’t you?”

“I…” she pauses for a moment. “I guess my life has been so isolated the last few years, I haven’t really.  But…I know I want Rindy to live a good long life.  And you, darling, you too…”

“That’s just it, Carol, I can’t imagine…I’ve only known you a year, that’s not enough…I feel like I am only just now figuring out what it is to live, how to love being alive, now, with you, since I met you, and I would be **_so mad_** if this is all the time I get to be with you.”  Her tears wet Carol’s chest. “There is so much more of you I want to know.  So much life I want to live with you.”

Carol takes Therese’s face in her hands and kisses her fiercely.  “Oh my dearest, me too,” she murmurs between kisses, “me too.”  Their kiss deepens and Carol feels her body soften under Therese’s hands, now running along the curve of her hips and back with an urgency.  Leaning her forehead into Therese’s, Carol draws a hand up her inner thigh.  “Let’s not waste a minute,” she breathes. 

With a keening sigh, Therese presses her hips into Carol’s hand. “Please,” she implores. “Please.”

Their lovemaking, as deeply passionate as ever, carries a burning need for them both, an almost furious claim on each other tinged with both sadness and triumph, which leaves them breathless.  _This_ , Carol thinks as she pulls the blankets around their cooling bodies, _is life, this is living, the refusal to give up, the refusal to stop living, stop loving_. “I will love you for as long as I’m given life to, and then some, Therese,” she whispers into her hair.   “Nothing can keep me from loving you.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

_This is how we live_.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Resist, beloveds.


	15. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy 65th Waterloo Anniversary, darlings, and Happy New Year! Celebrate both well!
> 
> With deep thanks always to Ligeria for catching my errors and especially for her love of this fandom.

February 19, 1954

 

Therese does love this apartment, the first place that felt truly hers, the space where she learned to live on her own and care for herself, the space she learned the joys of her own solitude after so many years at the home.  And now she loves it, she reflects, as the cozy, settled place she shares with her love.

_However_ , she says to herself with a shrug to adjust the shifting weight of the bags she’s carrying, _climbing three flights of stairs at the end of a long day does get old_.  She pauses briefly as she turns on the second floor landing, a memory causing a small smile to form.  _Though I do love Carol’s legs going up these stairs_.  She gives herself a little shake and heads up the next staircase with renewed energy and a widening grin.

As she reaches the last flight to the third floor she can smell food cooking.  _She’s home_. Her heart warms as she rummages in her coat pocket for her keys.  Turning the key in the lock she breathes in the familiar scent.  Onions, garlic, and… _nutmeg? But why would she be cooking that today?_

As she settles her bags on the floor of the entryway for the time being, Therese can hear Carol on the telephone.  Therese had thought getting their own line installed cost a fortune, but Carol had felt uncomfortable talking to her lawyer in the hallway, and Therese had had to admit that made sense.  There were other advantages too, Therese thinks as she peels her coat off and drops it on the bed, like being able to call Carol to let her know she’s on her way home after photographing an event for the paper, and hearing Carol’s happy voice on the other end telling her she’s waiting.

Therese steps into the living room to find Carol perched on the arm of the sofa, receiver tucked under her chin and her other hand still wielding a wooden cooking spoon like an absent-minded symphony conductor.  “Yes, yes.” Carol nods to the unknown speaker. 

As quietly as she can, Therese kisses the top of Carol’s head and gently takes the spoon from her.  Carol beams at her, and there is a sparking light in her eyes that Therese has not seen for weeks.  Therese gestures with her chin and the spoon, a silent offer to go tend the cookpot, but Carol grabs her hand and won’t let her leave, won’t release her eyes.

_Something has happened_ , Therese thinks, _something good_ , and she stays put, eyes locked on Carol’s.

“Yes…oh you have no idea.”

Therese can tell from Carol’s voice that’s she’s fit to burst with emotion and only just succeeding at holding it back.

“Yes…Oh this is such incredible news, I cannot thank you enough, Madeleine.”

_The lawyer_!  Therese drops the spoon on the coffee table with a clatter and kneels down in front of Carol, taking her free hand in both of hers, her own eyes wide in anticipation.

“I’ll be there first thing Monday morning. And thank you again, Madeleine, I…yes, thank you, thank you.”

Carol’s hand trembles as she sets the receiver back into the cradle. Her hand stills there as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“What is it, Carol, what’s happened?”  Therese shifts her knees to come closer.

“Oh darling,” Carol exhales, and then her eyes are open again, and full of tears, “Oh Therese, she did it.” She pulls Therese into a tight embrace; Therese tightens her arms around her as much as she can.  “She did it.  Oh my god, she did it.” Her voice cracks in a jubilant sob. “And I don’t even have to go to court.”

“What?!  Oh Carol!” Therese tears up now, and they rock back and forth.  “I can’t believe it, oh Carol, I’m so happy for you!”

Carol squeezes her and peppers kisses all over her face. “Oh darling…there’s only one other time in my life I’ve felt this happy.”

Therese knows just what she means without Carol having to explain; she had recognized the barely-controlled-about-to-burst-from-joy expression on Carol’s face from the Oak Room.  “Tell me, Carol, tell me what Madeleine said.”

Carol pulls Therese up to sit beside her, knees touching and hands tightly entwined.  “Well, remember a couple of weeks ago, I told you she had found out about all the labor violations in Harge’s factories?”  Therese nods.  “I told her what you said then, not to use it as a kind of…bargaining chip, to get him to agree to a new arrangement or she would report him to the NLRB, remember?”

“Oh yes, I remember.” Therese nods again. Her own working class background had made her adamant that Harge not be let off the hook for abusing workers; it shouldn’t be an either-or, and she had been relieved that Carol immediately agreed.  “So, what did she do?”

“It’s brilliant,” Carol says with a shake of her head.  “She built a whole case against him that included how he treated his workers.  Everything that we’ve been tracking – every time he broke our custody agreement, every time he showed up drunk, all the constitutional violations from last year, too – all of that, with witnesses, _together_ with the labor violations, she crafted into one big argument and presented it to his lawyer:  Either make _all_ of this right, or Harge will spend the next 10 years in so many court fights he’ll have nothing left at the end, including his daughter.”

“Oh my god, Carol.  And that worked?”

“It did indeed.  I told you she’s a spitfire.” 

They embrace again; Therese feels giggly like they’ve been drinking champagne.  “And the custody arrangement? All that you wanted?”

“That **_we_** wanted darling, and yes, yes.  Every other weekend during the school year, 6 weeks in the summer, Mother’s Day, my birthday, _and_ ,” she says with particular relish, “Christmas Eve and Christmas.”

Therese bursts into laughter at that, pulling them both up to their feet and spinning them out into the living room in a spontaneous, rocking, joyful dance.

“I must admit,” Carol says, tossing her head with a grin, “getting her at Christmas is a particular victory that feels just a little bit like revenge.  If I’m allowed to feel that.”

“Oh Carol, of course you are. Of course. After all he’s put you through, you get to feel a little bit gleeful in a revenge kind of way.” 

As their rocking dance gradually stills into a slow, swaying embrace, Therese can feel the electricity of Carol’s joy rolling off her like waves.  She rises up on her tiptoes to whisper in Carol’s ear. “I’m so happy for you, Carol, I’m so happy for you.”  She smiles when she feels Carol’s body shiver against hers. 

Over Carol’s shoulder she sees something she’s not sure how she missed when she came in the room:  a huge vase of fresh red roses, 2 dozen at least, with 2 yellow roses in the center.  She knows this is Carol’s special arrangement for important moments, the 2 yellow roses symbolizing the two of them.  “You got the roses to celebrate, then?  They’re gorgeous, Carol.”

“The roses” -- Carol looks over her shoulder and then back at Therese, who is surprised to see something that in her experience is quite rare: a blush creeping up into Carol’s cheeks.  “The roses, ah…no, I got those before I came home, I didn’t know anything about Rindy until Madeleine called just now.”

Therese squints her eyes playfully at Carol’s shyness.  “What are you up to?  Roses like this? You bring these home to celebrate something.”  She remembers the smells of the kitchen when she got home.  “And creamed spinach, that’s for celebrations, too. What else could it be?”

Carol’s blush deepens as she takes a small step back, swinging their hands between them.  “Well I…I had already decided…well if you must know, it’s all for you.  Come.”  Picking up the wooden spoon, she draws Therese into the kitchen. 

“Me?  Whatever for?” Therese is mystified even moreso when they enter the kitchen.  Carol turns the stove back on, giving the sautéing onion and garlic a deep stir while Therese takes in the table – a handsome square oak set with 4 chairs that had come into the shop recently – draped in a red cloth, and set with white linen napkins and Carol’s good china, silver, and crystal.  “What is…Carol?” She turns to face the other woman, happily confused.

Carol tosses a handful of spinach into the pot and continues stirring.  “Darling, I’ve thought a lot about what you said last month, about now not being then, and about what I said, that there was nothing to celebrate between New Year’s and April 17th.  And then I realized I was wrong.”  She adds more spinach to the pot and stirs.

“Oh?”  Therese cannot possibly think of anything to celebrate, either.

Carol’s smile is gentle, and, Therese thinks, knowing.  Carol has remembered something Therese has not, and it makes Therese feel seen, and loved, the ways Carol pays attention.

“Darling, I confess I don’t know the exact date,” she says, adding the last of the spinach and giving it a few stirs before setting the spoon down and stepping towards Therese, “but a year ago this month, sometime before today, you started working at The Times.”

Therese’s eyes go wide and she feels choked up all over again.

“I remember you telling me,” Carol continues, reaching for Therese’s hand, “how in the beginning you felt like a glorified secretary, but look at you now.  You’re sent on important assignments and your photographs carry your own name, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Therese doesn’t even know what to say besides the barest whisper of Carol’s name.

“I won’t say those days…those weeks, weren’t hard, I won’t put those words in your mouth…and yet” – Carol tucks a strand of hair behind Therese’s ear and cups her cheek – “you also came into your own over that time, at least that’s what you’ve explained to me, and getting that job was such an important part of that.” She bends to kiss Therese softly on the lips.  “So it seems to me,” she says with another kiss, “that this is a very important anniversary to celebrate.” 

Therese is spellbound as Carol kisses her again, a bit longer this time, with just a hint of _more_ , leaving Therese wanting and weak-kneed as the other woman steps back to the stove to pour in the nutmeg-laced heavy cream.

“Oh Carol,” she breathes.

“There’s champagne in the icebox, darling,” Carol says with a wink, “so let’s celebrate, shall we?”

Therese is so overwhelmed it takes two glasses of champagne for her to find her words again, though the cold bubbles have done nothing to tame the desire that has only grown since Therese first came up the stairs; if anything, she feels as effervescent as the drink itself, bottled and under pressure, a chill crackling like fire across her own skin.  Carol’s soft twinkling smirk tells Therese all she needs to know about how the other woman is feeling.

“You know,” Therese finally speaks, “I don’t even remember.” Fingers pressed to her mouth, she closes her eyes in wonder at the first bite of the dish, always amazed at its warm richness.

“Remember what, darling?”

“My first day at The Times, I don’t remember what day it was.  How did you know?”

“Something Abby said, that you had started there. I remember when the conversation was, so I guessed from there.”

Therese shakes her head slowly, amazed yet again at how Carol remembers, how Carol had done her best to hold onto her during those long, harsh months they were apart.  She kicks off her shoes and tangles her feet around Carol’s under the table, unable to bear not being connected to her in some way.

But it is when Carol gifts her with a new work satchel – a rich, supple, dark brown leather bag with her initials tooled into the flap, subtle and simple in its elegance, understated just as Therese appreciates – that Therese cannot stand it any longer. If she could do so without breaking the china she would fling herself across the table, but instead leaps to her feet and is around to the other side of the table in a flash, pulling Carol up into her with a searing kiss.  She’s ready to take Carol up against she icebox if she must, bubbling over as she is with yearning, joy, and wonder, but somehow Carol maneuvers them into the bedroom, leaving half their clothing in their wake.

Therese nearly comes undone just at the sight of Carol lifting Therese’s coat from the bed, groaning as she draws it across her body and drops it behind her to the floor with a flick of her strong and delicate wrist. Their opening encounter is rampant, unbridled, as neither can keep their hands and mouths from the other. Before either of them can catch their breath, Therese begins kissing down Carol’s torso, slowing deliberately as Carol arches up into her kiss.

“Darling, again,” Carol gasps, curling her fingers into Therese’s hair, and they take their time, unhurried now with the initial release of their urgency.  Long, languid caresses glide over curves as limbs entwine and shift, and hips press. 

Riding out the last shuddering of waves that Carol has flooded through her body, Therese is pressed tight into Carol’s chest. “Carol, god.”

Carol hooks a leg over her to pull her even closer. “I have you, dearest, I have you.  You’re amazing,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to Therese’s head.

“Carol,” Therese breathes again, as if it is the only word she knows, or needs. “Carol…how…Carol, I’m so happy.  So happy.”  With the strength she has left, she tightens her hold around the other woman.

“Me too, darling, me too.  I wanted to surprise you…I never expected to be surprised myself.”

Therese kisses Carol’s breastbone. “Who would have thought, a year ago?” she ponders thoughtfully.  “My job going so well, you getting Rindy back…”

“And of course, us together, don’t forget.”

“How could I ever?” Therese grins into Carol’s skin.  “Let’s celebrate this day every year.”

Carol runs a hand down Therese’s back. “Don’t you want to find out the right day for when you started at The Times?”

Therese props herself up on an elbow and considers.  “No,” she says finally, gazing into Carol’s face – _so kind, so very kind_ – “No, it feels right, everything together today.  All the pieces of our lives come together.  Today.  February…whatever today is, you’ve left me a bit loopy!”

Their laughter echoes into the night.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the NLRB is the National Labor Relations Board, established to protect certain workers' rights in the 1935 National Labor Relations Act.


	16. After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Carol Day, darlings! xo
> 
> And thanks as always to the fabulous Ligeria.

Saturday, April 17, 1954

 

Carol can feel the nervousness in her knees as she climbs the steps into the lounge at the Ritz.  Meeting Therese here had not been part of their plan for this day.  They both had to work, much to their chagrin, but Carol had made their reservation at the Oak Room weeks ago, and Therese had been very specific about requesting the table “by the lamp, the way you glowed in the light, I remember.”  So Carol was surprised when she received the note from the messenger in the early afternoon.

“Dear Carol,” it said in Therese’s small, careful writing, “Would you please meet me at the Ritz Tower at 6?  See you there. ~ T”

Carol knew they could not say much in messengered notes, but she still missed Therese’s more affectionate writing when it was just the two of them. And of course, she thinks as she is seated – _not at the same table as a year ago, thank goodness_ – a bit more of a clue about this invitation would help. She breathes the slightest shake of a breath as she flips the menu absently.  _Don’t be daft_ , she admonishes herself. _She loves you, she just has something up her sleeve, everything’s fine_.

Nevertheless, she does not entirely relish sitting here at the Ritz, where she has taken pains not to meet anyone for the last year.  She had humiliated herself, she had thought at the time, leaving all her bloody, broken shards out on the table while Therese, looking ravishing in her new hairdo and styled-up suit, sat still and wide-eyed, though no longer the wide eyes of discovery. Rather, they were watchful, protective eyes, and Carol had found them hard to fathom; the change, and the reason behind it, made her heart break even more.  Carol had felt like she was flailing in deep, uncharted waters, and when Therese had turned her down Carol thought for sure she had drowned.

Carol orders tea for them both, and pastries to share. _It’s still a few hours ‘til supper, why not?  But where is she?_   Never one for a watch, Carol has taken pains to arrive on time for once, even a few minutes early.  She fidgets with the silverware, waiting.  Running a finger along the dull edge of the butter knife, she smiles lightly to herself. “I could have killed him with my butter knife,” Therese had laughed the next day about Jack.  Lost in the memory of their bodies nestled under the sheets for most of that day, she doesn’t notice when the chair across the table from her is pulled out and a slender body drops into it.

“Hey!”

Carol looks up into Therese’s bright, breathless face and smiles. “Hi!”  She’s nervous but the smile on Therese’s face eases her anxiety a bit.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Therese gushes, “Ed kept asking for one more thing, one more thing, until finally I said I would start charging double overtime if he didn’t let me leave.” She takes a big breath. “Thank you for being here, for waiting.”

The tea service arrives and Carol begins to pour out.  “Of course, darling. You’re hardly late, I’m sure, and as much as I always keep you waiting, fair’s fair.”

Therese adds cream to her Earl Grey and blows a cool breath across the top. “I know, but I did not want to be late today.”

Carol is unsure what to say to that, so she sips her tea, gazing softly at Therese over the top of her teacup, hoping Therese will reveal why they are here soon so she can calm down. _I hope I can calm down, anyway – God, why am I nervous? She’s right here, smiling._

Therese shuffles slightly in her seat and leans in with a big breath.  “I know you’re wondering why we’re here, I know this cannot be your favorite place.”

“That’s the truth,” Carol responds with a wry smile. “Why _are_ we here, darling? I admit I’m a bit nervous.”

Therese gives her a gentle look.  “There are two things I want to tell you, that I didn’t get to before. Good things, Carol, don’t be worried,” she adds thoughtfully.

Carol feels the relief unravel across her shoulders. “All right.  Should I tip the waiter so nobody interrupts us this time?” She winks.

“I already did, if somebody still tries I will throttle them with my own hands this time.”

They both laugh at that; Carol’s fondness for the younger woman warms her cheeks, and she settles into her chair to listen, her right fingers idly tracing the edge of her teacup on the table.

Therese gives a little nod.  “Ok, first thing.”

Carol nods back, curious; she’s slightly amused at Therese’s sudden seriousness, but does not let it show on her face.

“First…I think one of the reasons I was so…speechless, I guess, last year, was watching you be so hard on yourself.”  She gives her head a little shake, remembering. “I was so…overwhelmed with feelings, really, confusion and hopefulness too and…hesitant, wary, like I didn’t know what foot to stand on, and then you, this brilliant confident woman I had fallen in love with just beating yourself up in front of me, as if you had ruined everything…as if that was what I _wanted_ , you beating yourself up like that.”

“You didn’t want that?” Carol’s voice is shy, tentative; this was not what she was expecting and she’s deeply moved, though she feels the shame trying to crowd its way in.

“No, Carol, I didn’t. I don’t. Ever.  That’s what I wanted to tell you.”  She lays her hand on the table, and Carol can tell the way the fingers stretch towards her ever so subtly that Therese wants to touch her, assure her.  Carol looks from Therese’s hand up to her eyes, which are holding her with such care.  “Never, Carol.  You still do it, and I will just keep reminding you that you don’t have to. That night you didn’t have to, I didn’t want that.”

Carol takes a shaky breath, running her hand up the back of her neck and then dabbing the corners of her eyes with her napkin.  “My angel,” she whispers so only Therese can hear her.

“All I needed was to know how you were, what had happened, with Rindy what had happened, because I understood by then, I understood and I was making my life, what you said in your letter, I had much to do and I was doing it, and what did that mean for us now? That’s all I wanted or needed.  Never, ever you beating yourself up.  Ok?”

Carol nods emphatically.  “Yes, well I’m trying but yes.  Yes.”

Therese smiles. “Good.  That’s the first thing.”

“All right.”  Carol swallows, preparing herself in case the second thing is anything like the first.  “And the second?”

“The second.”  Therese straightens up in her chair, hands in her lap, leaning slightly forward.  Carol feels the energy go suddenly taut and crackle between them as Therese holds her gaze; the look on her face – the word that comes to Carol’s mind is _exalted_ – leaves her breathless.

Therese exhales in a rush, takes a slow breath in, and finally speaks. “I love you, too.”

_Exalted._   
  


* * *  
  


Things being as they are, they are always grateful for rain, as it means they can huddle close under the umbrella and no one cares.  They even forgo taxis sometimes just for the chance to be close in public.  So neither complains when they step out of the Ritz into a gentle drizzle.  Without a word Carol immediately opens the umbrella with one hand and wraps her other arm around Therese’s waist, all in a smooth movement.  Together they hold the umbrella, hands touching on the handle.

After the steak but before their chocolate soufflé arrives, Therese rummages in her handbag while Carol pours the last of the Merlot in their wine glasses.  With a quick glance around, Therese slides a small box across the table to Carol.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises today.” Carol grins.  “What’s this?”

“Open it!” 

Carol beams when she opens the box to find a small golden acorn.  She immediately reaches her arm across the table to Therese and shakes her charm bracelet to the end of her wrist.  “Darling, please?”  At this point in the evening she doesn’t care two figs if anyone is watching them, and she begins to put the new charm on the bracelet as soon as Therese has taken it off and handed it back to her.  “Thank you, it’s beautiful, thank you darling.”

Therese watches with her chin in her hand, content, as Carol puts the charm onto its loop.  “Did you know that oak trees entwine their roots together underground, to hold each other up?  That’s how they can withstand the strong storms. They hold each other, underground.”

“Really?  That’s lovely.”  Carol knows what Therese is trying to say and makes sure she has her eyes.  “It’s perfect. Perfect.”  She hands the bracelet back across the table and extends her wrist.  “How did you learn so much about oak trees?”

“Oh,” Therese says as she re-clasps the bracelet with a hidden fingertip caress to the inside of Carol’s wrist, “they’re my favorite tree.” 

Carol gives her head a flirting lilt, waiting for Therese to get it, and grins when she sees the recognition flash across her face.

“Oh, and I read…too much probably.”

_Now who glows in this light?_   
  


* * *  
  


After the soufflé

After Carol’s delight watching Therese walk back to the table from the ladies room

After the brandy and cigarettes

After the walk, huddled tipsily under the umbrella

After the quiet taxi ride, contentment swelling Carol’s chest

After the silent, anticipating climb up the stairs

After the press of her body up against the wall as soon as the door is locked

After the charged pause, the deep searching gaze into each other’s eyes

After the taking of her beloved’s face in her hands with all the tenderness she could muster

After the longest, sweetest, lingering kiss

After the slow dance into the bedroom

After the strewing of clothes

After hands chasing curves, teeth tracing bones

After limbs twining, searching

After whispered queries

After “here?” and “like this?” and “do you want?” and “tell me”

After fingers seeking, and finding

After the salt of sweat on tongue

After the wet tremors

After the names stretched into speechlessness

After the yes, the yes, the continual yes

 

After the long, last, eternal shudder

Carol’s breath bursts and she collapses atop Therese, who immediately wraps her arms around her and pulls her tight.  They are both trembling, and Carol kisses her hard, not sure if it’s her own tears or Therese’s she tastes on their lips.

“You’re magnificent…”

“Darling…my dearest…

“God, Carol…”

“My angel…”

They find words between kisses and panting breaths. 

“Carol I feel…”

“Yes, my love?”

“…excited.” Therese squeezes her and turns them onto their sides, throwing a leg over  Carol’s hip to pull her as close as they can be. “So excited!” she repeats in an blissful whisper.

“Tell me more, darling,” Carol murmurs, underlining Therese’s lower lip with a fingertip.

“It’s just…after all we’ve been through, here we are, you know?  After all of it.  And I can’t wait for what comes next, I can’t wait! Whatever it is, with you, it will be wonderful.” 

She kisses Carol with a fervor that builds the heat between them again almost instantly. 

“Me too, darling, me too.”  Carol smiles as her bracelet chimes as she shimmies her hand between their hips and presses deep.

_After all, we’re oak trees._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ ~ ~  
> Thus ends this particular set of stories! It's hard to believe I've been working on them for a year...what I thought was going to start off as a few fun little vignettes turned into something much deeper. Thank you for coming on the journey!


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